#and have to repeatedly remind myself to go step by step | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hb-writes · 1 month

Text

Together

Summary: When the Cullen family goes on a hike, Mia's fear of heights presents a bit of a problem, but Carlisle is there to help her through.

Prompt: Please number 65 (“I volunteer myself to go last.”) with Mia and Carlisle?

Characters: Carlisle Cullen, Esme Cullen, Jasper Hale, Edward Cullen, Alice Cullen (mention), Mia Cullen (OC)

Content Warning: Fear of heights, excessive fluff.

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

Each breath in and out seared as it passed through Mia’s lungs and throat, the sound of her labored breathing matched only by the pounding of her heart. She knew her parents—and her brothers and sisters, too—could likely hear her struggling up the hill. They were too far ahead on the trail—or what had likely at one point resembled a trail, so much of it washed out by heavy rains and melting snow—by now for Mia to hear the steady conversation of her siblings as they walked ahead, but she knew they would still be able to hear her, able to easily pick out the sounds of her strife from the sounds of the forest around them.

It hadn’t taken long to realize why the trail had technically been closed for the season, categorized as too dangerous for human visitors. Mia was proud of herself for getting this far without succumbing to offers of assistance, even with the difficult trail that went back and forth between a mostly drained out river bed and the forest, causing Mia to be constantly scaling the suddenly steep inclines only to be bracing herself with exposed roots and rocks as she slid back down a few moments later.

None of it gave the others any trouble, even with the muddy conditions caused by the spring thaw, but Mia was already exhausted, some part of her screaming to turn back, or simply give in. To let someone carry her on their back for a bit, allowing her feet and legs and lungs the rest they clearly needed. But Mia knew if she did accede, even if only for a moment, that would be the end of her hike. Once her body had a moment of rest, it would only protest her walking again.

And despite the growing part of her wishing for reprieve, Mia didn’t want to give in, not really. She had known what to expect coming into it. Emmett had gone through the logistics with her and Carlisle beforehand, ensuring the hike was doable, ensuring there wasn’t anything she’d have too much trouble with, and even though Mia was nursing a stitch in her side and barely able to control her breathing or will her feet to pull her forward, she knew the worst was still yet to come.

Her heartbeat spiked at the thought of what still lay ahead, another thing she was sure everyone picked up on, especially Esme and Carlisle, whose gentle footfall was still sounding just behind her, intermingled with their occasional quiet conversation, all of it a deliberate effort made to remind Mia that they were still there, just a step behind if she needed anything.

Mia had tried her best not to need anything though, and she had accepted little more than her father’s hand extended down to help her up one particularly steep incline. He hadn’t even pulled her up, allowing her to use her own muscles to close the distance between them, his hand in hers little more than a bit of leverage. Mia was near certain she would be so sore she could barely walk in the morning—she could already feel the pain settling in—but that was a problem for tomorrow.

One thing at a time, Mia thought to herself as her muscles burned anew, the sudden thinning of the forest’s canopy above her and the faint sound of quiet conversation between Edward and Jasper reminding her that there were more important things to focus on, more imminent concerns.

“Doing okay?”

It was only the third time Carlisle had offered the question throughout their hike, and she knew it was an effort on his part to avoid the temptation to ask after her wellbeing, just as he’d been repeatedly stifling the urge to offer his hand to pull her up steep inclines and to offer his back to give her tired legs a rest. She knew it was an effort for Carlisle to allow her to struggle, to allow her to do things on her own, especially when it so clearly caused her pain.

Mia turned towards her parents, nodding as she briefly met Carlisle’s eye. Her chest was tight enough with each breath that Mia knew if she were to try speaking, any words would only come out as a strangled gasp without the air necessary to support them.

Carlisle nodded in return, and Mia turned around, trudging up the path toward the clearing. Jasper and Edward glanced at her as she arrived, subtle smirks on both of their faces as she dragged her feet to close the final few steps between them.

Mia let out a ragged breath, leaning over with her hands on her knees as her body caught up with the fact that she was no longer walking, no longer plodding up a hill, no longer pushing her limits.

Carlisle held out a bottle of water, which Mia took as she straightened back to her full height. She felt a sharp pain in her side with each big inhale, and she focused on breathing just enough that she avoided the pain.

“The others already went ahead?” she asked, hoping the words sounded at least a little normal and not as though it was a great effort just to speak.

Edward nodded, watching as Mia took gulp after gulp from the water bottle.

“Alice is just crossing,” Jasper said, and Mia pulled the bottle from her lips before following his gaze to the far side of the suspension bridge where Alice was twisting and twirling as if she were on a stage and not a glorified bundle of wood slats held together by cables, all of it a staggering 156 feet above the surging waters below.

Alice, as per usual, seemed entirely unbothered by the risk.

Mia's gaze traveled to the waters below. Even though she had looked at the pictures online…even though she had known all she could know about the trail and the bridge and the river before agreeing to come along, seeing it in-person was something different entirely. Her mouth dried out despite allowing another gulp of water to slip past her lips.

“You want to go next?” Jasper rocked on his feet, leaning over to nudge Mia’s side with his arm. She took a step back, away from the edge that she was nowhere near to begin with, her body responding to some subliminal call to retreat.

“Can I go in the middle?” she asked.

Edward leaned back, revealing a small brown sign with white lettering affixed to a post near the bridge's entry.

RECOMMENDED: ONE PERSON ON BRIDGE AT A TIME.

“Great,” Mia muttered under her breath. “I volunteer myself to go last, then,” she added as she took a few steps before lowering herself to sit on a large rock she imagined had been brought there just for this purpose. For the people who were too scared to cross to have a place to sit and watch the braver members in their party go forge ahead.

“Are you sure?” Jasper asked. “I could—”

Mia cut off the suggestion with a glare and a shake of her head. Anxious as she was about the crossing, she didn’t want Jasper’s brand of help. She didn’t want him to soothe her nerves or sway her mood, tempting as that all was. Jasper didn’t fight her on it, offering a shrug before he turned to begin his journey across.

"See you on the other side."

Mia propped her elbow on a knee and let her head slump into her hand as she watched Jasper disappear over the bridge.

“You sure you don’t want to go next?” Edward asked. “Get it over with?”

Mia shook her head once before turning her attention to pushing her hiking boot through the mud, making a gouge in the ground with the force of it.

“I’ll go next,” Esme said, pressing a gentle hand to Mia’s shoulder as she passed.

Mia watched her mother go, not pulling her eyes away even as she felt Edward’s gaze on her.

“I’m sure you’re making it worse in your head than it’s actually going to be.”

“And how would you know what I’m thinking?”

The words snapped with more force than Mia intended as she turned to look at her brother. Mia knew that she had her mind locked up well enough that Edward couldn’t get in, couldn’t really tell what she was thinking though she was sure he had attempted. Mia had made sure her guards were up and secure today, almost as much of her focus settled there as it was on making sure she didn’t trip and fall.

“My thoughts are none of your business.”

Edward snorted, and Mia waited for either the pseudo lecture or sarcastic comment she could tell was on the tip of her brother’s tongue, but when she looked up, it was clear he was already mid-conversation with someone else.

Carlisle—she presumed—knowing that the two of them frequently engaged that way, especially where she was concerned.

“Fine,” Edward said in response to whatever Carlisle had expressed through his thoughts. “I’ll wait for you on the other side," he added, glancing down at Mia, but Carlisle shook his head.

“I believe your mother would like to walk with you for a while,” Carlisle answered. He nodded toward the other side of the gorge, where Esme indeed still stood, waiting, and whether Esme truly had any particular reason for wanting her son’s company, Mia was grateful to her mother for occupying him, and grateful to her father for suggesting it. Grateful that Edward wouldn’t be permitted the opportunity to follow up on any of their conversation just now.

“You two go on ahead.”

Edward didn't bother responding before he headed out onto the bridge, his feet making swift work of the crossing.

“Your brother means well,” Carlisle said as he slipped down onto the rock beside his daughter.

Mia rolled her eyes, her gaze shifting from her father to watch the brother in question. Edward had by now joined Esme on the other side of the bridge, the time it took seeming impossibly quick, but Mia knew Edward could still hear them.

“I know,” she answered. And she did know. As much as Edward and Mia sometimes grated on each other's nerves, Mia knew her brother meant well. She knew he wanted what was best for her.

Mia pushed her foot through the mud, focusing her gaze there as she spoke. “It’s just amazing how they’re all so overprotective until it’s something I have reservations about, and then they’re all ready to push me off the side of a cliff.”

Carlisle chuckled, knowing that it was partly true.

“They do realize I’m a human being, right?” she said. “Unlike the rest of you, if I fall off that bridge and break my neck, I’m dead.”

Carlisle sighed, and Mia felt the weight of her words. She’d meant it as a joke, or a sort of joke, but the mention of her ever present mortality was a heavy subject. Somewhere along the line, she’d realized that it was heavy for all of them in different ways, but it seemed to be heavier for her father more than any of the rest of them. Mia understood why. She knew that if anything like that were to happen…if her existence hung in the balance somehow…it would be her father’s decision on how they would proceed. It would be her father who changed her or let her go.

Mia released a sigh as she leaned her head against his shoulder, an apology of sorts.

“You’ve done well today.” Carlisle snaked an arm over her shoulder.

Mia snorted, glancing up to him, eyebrow raised. “So have you.”

Carlisle reached for the water bottle she’d discarded beside the rock, holding it out for her as if the compliment she’d spared him just now was akin to giving him permission to dote on her a bit. Mia didn’t fight him on it, accepting the bottle and taking a swig.

“It’s nice here,” Mia mused as she stretched out her legs in front of her. “Maybe we should just sit here and relax and…”

“Is that really what you want?”

Carlisle would’ve been happy to sit there with his daughter for hours, enjoying nature and the peace and quiet. And he was certain that the longer they lingered on this side of the bridge, the better chance they had of letting the others hunt at a more leisurely pace without concern for Mia’s presence, but he could feel the tug of war within his daughter. Could feel that there was some part of her that wanted to face her fear of heights.

Mia shrugged and stood up, taking a step toward the bridge. There was supposedly a small, easy hike to a beautiful view on the other side of the bridge, but…

“It’s a big fall,” she said. "Quite a ways down..."

“It is,” Carlisle agreed, “but the bridge is safe,” he added, as if he knew she was questioning it.

Mia nodded. She knew her father wouldn’t allow her to traverse it if it wasn’t safe, but intellectually knowing that fact did nothing to quell the anxious hormones rushing through her blood stream.

“But it wobbles,” Mia said. She had seen the bridge swaying while the others had crossed. “And it’s very…open.” It was far more open than she had expected, the cables and wood slats offering far less protection and safety than she had expected.

Mia glanced back at her father, waiting for him to contest her observations, but Carlisle only nodded. He wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t deny the truth of her observations. The validity of her concerns about the structure.

But more than Mia was concerned about the structure, she was concerned about her role in crossing. She was afraid that her clumsy nature would somehow result in her falling between the wooden slats. Or that she would somehow succeed at propelling herself over the cable rails.

She knew both were unlikely scenarios, but she couldn’t stop the fear from settling in her stomach.

And she couldn’t stop herself from imagining the most likely of scenarios—that she would simply freeze, stranded somewhere in the middle of the bridge and paralyzed by fear.

She knew she didn't have to do it. No one would force her to cross, and with her siblings gone, no one would taunt or tease or try to convince her either. And Mia knew that deciding that crossing the bridge didn’t serve her and not crossing because of that decision…that could be a form of courage. Standing up for herself in that way would be just as courageous as forging ahead.

She could almost hear her father saying as much though he remained quiet and waiting, not wanting his words to influence her choice. The quiet between them seemed to last an impossibly long time while what seemed like a million thoughts raced through her head each one louder than the last until Mia took a hasty step forward and her mind quieted. She her breath as she moved out onto the bridge. She didn’t want to think about it any longer, or allow herself to claim the courage of saying no to something she didn’t want to do, because though it was easier to stay on this side, deep down she wanted to cross the bridge. She wanted to see the view on the other side. She wanted…

Mia looked down at her feet as she placed the third and fourth and fifth steps down, and with each step it became more difficult to focus on her hiking boot and the wood slat beneath it, her eyes drawn to the rushing waters of river below.

She closed her eyes, hands settled on the cables to her sides, willing her body to still the shaking that had started, willing her foot to take another step, but she was frozen, every part of her resistant to any idea of movement.

Even to get back, she would have to walk. She would have to open her eyes and turn around and…she gulped, her body ramping up at the thought of those things, the doubting thoughts once again growing louder and more insistent.

“Dad…”

The word was barely a whisper. Barely a plea, but Carlisle was there beside Mia in just a fraction of a second, guiding her to breathe, his voice and hands on her shoulders steadying her as her eyes remained squeezed tight.

“I can’t do it. I…”

“You don't want to?”

Mia took a deep breath, her eyes still shut as she considered her father’s question, the way he had effectively sidestepped her assertion, letting it fall away without comment, both of them knowing it wasn’t true.

Both of them knew that there was little truth to Mia’s ‘I can’t do it.’ Crossing the bridge wasn’t a matter of ability, but a matter of desire, and Mia knew her father wouldn’t push her one way or the other. Carlisle would let her decide.

“I don’t know,” Mia answered, taking another slow breath to help loosen the tightness in her chest.

“I’m with you either way,” Carlisle answered. “We can go back or cross together. It's up to—”

“I thought only one person was allowed at a time,” Mia interrupted, remembering the glaring warning sign, as she glanced over her shoulder to look at her father.

Carlisle’s face held an easy smile, a hint of mischief gleaming in his eye as he shrugged.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Mia let out an uneasy chuckle, pulling her eyes from her father to look across to the far side of the bridge.

“Together,” she said, more to herself than anything, as if the word would convince her bones and nerves and muscles to cooperate, but it was Carlisle’s echoing of the word that had Mia taking a hesitant step forward and then another.

“I’m right here,” Carlisle said, his hand finding Mia’s shoulder when she paused a few steps later.

She looked over her shoulder briefly, offering him a nod before she continued on across the bridge, Carlisle's father’s comforting presence just a step behind.

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

#twilight #the twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen #jasper hale #mia cullen #we intertwined #june prompts #cleaning out my inbox

57 notes · View notes

idyllic-affections · 8 months

Note

how abt a scenario where big brother!kaeya comforts his little sibling who’s going through a hard time mentally and maybe has abandonment issues and fears that kaeya will leave them too

stormy nights.

summary. stormy nights are the hardest to bear.

trigger & content warnings. abandonment issues, general themes of anxiety, and implied past abandonment.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort. kaeya & younger sibling!reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. i needed something to post since i'm working on lengthy requests at the moment, so i settled on fulfilling this older one! i love kaeya sm.... i'm not complety content with how this came out but i'm posting it nonetheless because i am in the process of unlearning my nitpicky habits. is it the same quality as my usual writing? nope! but that's fine. not everything will always be 100% up to whatever imaginary standard i have set for myself and there is not a single thing wrong with that.

Rain, in their mind, was a pleasant type of weather... for the most part, anyway. There was nuance.

It depended on the exact type of rain. A simple shower, a little bit of rainfall... that was pleasant. Relaxing, even. The way the droplets would tap repeatedly against the tiles of their roof brought a sense of comfort and calmness into their home. It quieted their mind. It was a serene pattern that had the capacity to lull them to sleep if they were in the right position. Sometimes they'd even stand outside in the gentle rain, paying no mind to the way it dampened their clothes and skin. It was inexplicably soothing.

However, thunderstorms were a different beast entirely.

The flashes of light, the clap of thunder in the distance or sometimes even scarily within their vicinity...

Thunderstorms never sat well with them. Ever since they were but a small, vulnerable child, such horrible rain made a sense of dread settle in their gut. They were drenched in such frigid, violent rain once; the memory alone made their skin crawl and their muscles ache. Thunderstorms simply didn't sit well with them. They brought up too many gut-wrenching memories.

It reminded them of being abandoned by their father.

It reminded them of Diluc and Kaeya's falling out.

It reminded them of all the shitty things that'd ever happened to them, really. All of their major life events were accompanied by thunderous rain. The universe enjoyed mocking them, it seemed, for regardless of the circumstances, heavy rain always signalled bad.

Thunderstorms made anxiety settle uncomfortably in the pit of their stomach.

Given that fact, it was no surprise that they spent the past hour tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep in spite of their uncontrollable panic. When the frustration finally boiled over like an unsupervised pot on the stove, they huffed, throwing their blanket off of their body with uncharacteristic aggression and got up. There was little use in trying to sleep. They obviously couldn't, so they may as well go find something else to do. Something to pass the time until Kaeya got home or until the rain stopped—whichever happened first.

It was with quiet steps that they treaded out of their room. They weren't quite sure where they were headed or what they were exactly planning on doing at this hour. Maybe they'd get a snack from the kitchen and sit in the living room for a while? Anything would do, they supposed. Anything that didn't involve trying to sleep.

To their suprise, which quickly faded into relief, Kaeya was home, drying himself off with a towel that he had probably gotten from the closet. Some of their anxiety melted away almost immediately when his gaze landed on them.

"K— Kae..." they murmured, barely above the volume of a delicate whisper that undoubtedly was drowned out by the rain and thunder. They were quick to wipe away the tears welling up in their eyes. Hopefully, the dim atmosphere kept the Cavalry Captain from noticing (deep down, they knew better; Kaeya was always so observant when it came to them and their needs). They cleared their throat, speaking with more conviction so that they could certainly be heard over the weather: "When... um, when did you get here? You usually don't come home for a while longer."

"I came as soon as it started raining," he admitted, beckoning them closer, to which they gladly complied. They sincerely hoped he didn't take note of the sheer speed with which they ran to be in his embrace. If he did, he said nothing of it. Their head came to rest on his chest. Kaeya caringly raised a hand to their cheek, tenderly brushing his thumb over their cheekbone. His freehand ran up and down their spine soothingly. "You've never been one to sleep through the rain. Ever since you were little, you could never sleep if it rained too hard.

"But... you're... you're busy, aren't you?" they wondered, feeling their eyes begin to burn as tears started to well up once again. They did their best to blink those tears away. "You can't drop everything for me."

"Indeed I can, I did, and I will continue to do so."

"Kaeya..."

"Shh," he hushed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of their head, smoothing down the unkempt stands no doubt caused by their tossing and turning. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. Jean understands."

It was quiet for a moment. Then, they sniffled.

"Don't leave me."

"I plan on doing no such thing."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's drabbles 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #genshin platonic #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin #platonic genshin x reader #kaeya x reader

146 notes · View notes

oh-stars · 2 months

Text

Tally Marks

Assumption

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 851 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G

Eddie waits at the edge of the Rom-Com aisle as Steve finishes ringing up Mrs. Jenkins.

“These are due next Friday,” Steve reminds her as he slides over the tapes, “so you’ll have to come back and see me.”

Mrs. Jenkins takes the tapes and smiles, looking a little flustered as she bats her eyes at him. She’s old enough to be Steve’s great grandmother, but it’s kind of sweet his boyfriend has this power over people. He should probably hate Steve’s instinctive need to flirt with the customers (and everyone else he meets) but he knows Steve doesn’t know any different. To him, he’s just being polite and working his charm (snaps and all) to make someone’s day, even though everyone else can clearly see he’s being a flirt.

Eddie’s fine with it. For the most part.

Robin pushes her cart behind the counter and walks around to the computer, pushing Steve out the way. “Are you setting up a hot date with Mrs. Jenkins in our place of work, Steven?”

Steve shrugs, tossing Mrs. Jenkins a wink. “What can I say? I can’t help myself around beautiful women, you know that.”

Mrs. Jenkins waves him off. “You’re too much, Steve,” she says, cheeks rosy.

“Let me help you to your car,” Steve says as he quickly rounds the counter to take her arm in his. “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t have to open the doors for herself.”

“Robin, dear,” Mrs. Jenkins says as she and Steve start to take small steps toward the door. “You keep an eye on this one. He’s a keeper and you’re mighty lucky to call him yours.”

Steve’s eyes find Eddie’s, lips pressed together in a smirk. “Now who’s being too much?”

Mrs. Jenkins laughs and together, they walk to the door, where Steve holds it open for her.

As the door shuts behind them, Eddie steps out from the aisle to watch Steve help her into her car and make sure she’s settled. “Does he do that a lot?” he asks.

Robin’s busy pulling something out from under the counter. “Flirt? Eddie, you’ve met him–”

“No, no,” Eddie says as he takes his rightful place against the counter. “The whole walking her to the car song and dance.”

“Only with our more senior customers,” Robin says as she uncaps a marker, a whiteboard now lying on the counter in front of her. “And the ones who give him candy for his trouble.”

She’s marking a tally among a long line of them across the top of the board when Steve walks back in.

“Butterscotch?” he asks, offering the handful of them he’s holding. Something clinks against his teeth – Eddie tracks the movement to see Steve playing with one already in his mouth. This man has no right making hard candies attractive at ten o’clock in the morning.

Eddie plucks one out of his hand as Steve sets the rest against the computer’s base. “What’s with the tallies?”

Steve peers over the counter to see Robin’s board, which she is counting the tallies repeatedly and comparing it to the two numbers at the bottom of the board. “Only two more days, right?”

“Yup,” she says, “and so far, I'm the closest.”

“That’s so not fair.”

“How? There’s no skill in guessing a number–”

“You’ve got a freaky third sense–”

“Sixth sense,” Eddie and Robin say at the same time. “

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not losing.”

Robin sucks in a breath through her teeth. “I hate to break it to you, Steve, but I think you are.”

“What are you losing?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs and presses their shoulders together. “We have a bet going to see who can get closer to the number of people that assume Robbie and I are dating.”

“And so far, I’m only three off and Steve’s five.”

“That’s so close!”

“But no cigar,” Robin says with a grin as she puts the board and marker away.

“Two days is a lot of time,” Steve says. “I think I can get five people to assume we’re dating.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a snort, “like you two have any problems in that department.”

Steve smirks. “And then,” he says with a little trill to his voice, “Rob will have to buy me lunch for once.”

“In your dreams, Harrington.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile that threatens to break anyway. God, he loves these idiots.

Robin turns to him, unimpressed. “Don’t you have a shift to get to?”

He glances down at his watch and– “Shit. I’ll see you later.” Eddie chances a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek and tosses a wave over his shoulder as he heads out of Family Video, starting the mighty long journey of walking next door to the Arcade for his shift. What he wouldn’t give to have coworkers half as fun as the two of them, but alas, it’s just Eddie during the day shifts at the Arcade, so he’ll have to have his own fun. Or hope Steve comes to bother him on his break. Whichever comes first.

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

#ohstars fic #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #stobin month 2024 #ohstars posting challenge #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin #steddie fic #eddie munson

66 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 4 months

Text

Xiao Zhan Marie Claire Cover story | Rules & Inches

When I say the word "future",

The first syllable is in the past.

When I say the word "silence",

I've broken it.

When I say the word "nothing",

I have created something that nothingness itself can grasp.

——Vislava Szymborska, "The Three Strangest Words"

Xiao Zhan held up a handheld fan to dry the sweat from the filming. When the photographer signaled the start, he stepped forward, stepped back, walked again, and continued to retreat. The props on his back are like airplanes, and his eyes are constantly searching for the camera, and he is like a naughty child exploring an unknown world. Every time I go back and forth, I am thinking about the more refined possibilities between advancement and retreat.

It’s hard not to notice Xiao Zhan’s sense of proportion. When being interviewed, he has a catchphrase: "Can you say this?" Or, as if to confirm himself, "You can say it like this." He also reflects on himself all the time. For example, I repeatedly remind myself not to let my performance become inertia. Once I get used to it, it will develop into terrible inertia. For example, he often emphasizes that he doesn't like to make mysteries, and he may not understand many truths. What he shares is only his sincere daily feelings. For another example, when he heard a crew member commenting on his "striving for excellence", he responded that he had not yet reached "refinement" and only wanted to "benefit".

Xiao Zhan spoke slowly and eloquently. He did not have a thunderous and fiery personality. He chatted calmly and had the ancient style of a benevolent gentleman. He's not tight at all. They chatted all over the world, and when they got to the point where they were enjoying themselves, they naturally leaned back on the chair and gently held their right legs with both hands. The content of the chat ranged from the unchanging emotions contained in the golden songs of the times to AI, the views on human beings, as well as his own performances and life experiences.

In 2023, three TV series starring Xiao Zhan will be broadcast one after another. He played the colorful father, the lonely and cold eldest son, and the newcomer who struggled in the workplace. Every time he enters a crew, he will dream about real scenes and real pressure related to filming. After the dream is over, he sinks himself into the heart of the character and performs it, leaving vivid memories and feelings.

There is a ruler in the heart and a square inch outside the body. What's appropriate is Xiao Zhan's inner view, his precise view of work, life and himself. A few inches away is Xiao Zhan's external perspective, his perceptual understanding of the past, time, space and the world. Between the length and the shortness of a ruler, heaven and earth appear.

======

Three TV series have been aired and new dramas are being filmed. For actor Xiao Zhan, 2023 is a fruitful year.

Occasionally, when he looks back on his career as an actor, Xiao Zhan will be in a daze for a moment. In the blink of an eye, it seems that he has been there for a long time. Almost every time he shoots a movie, he has a routine: dreaming. I dreamed about memorizing lines, dreaming about acting against a director, or even dreaming about taking a math test, but couldn’t solve any of the questions on the paper, and then I woke up with a start.

Xiao Zhan felt that this was caused by pressure, and he accepted it calmly. Perhaps there is another reason. Deep down in his heart, he does not regard himself as a qualified actor, but always puts himself in the position of a newcomer, with an attitude of learning and exploration. Therefore, every time he goes to a crew, he has the experience of starting all over again.

Xiao Zhan is very wary of inertia. Sometimes he also advises himself not to be under so much pressure, not to get into trouble, and to try to be more relaxed. But once he realizes that he starts to rely on performance models, experiences and habits, he will remind himself that taking things for granted is dangerous. After a long time of inertia, inertia will occur, and inertia will lead to "taken for granted". Therefore, every time he interprets a role, he always has to gain some freshness.

Xiao Chunsheng in "Where Dreams Begin" is a character full of freshness. Because there are extremely obvious differences between him and Xiao Zhan himself. Xiao Chunsheng is a young man in Beijing in the 1970s, which is completely different from the era and environment in which Xiao Zhan grew up.

Military coats, "28 big bar" bicycles, the ice surface of Shichahai, and the transformation from a young boy to a middle-aged entrepreneur are not familiar to Xiao Zhan. To this day, Xiao Zhan can still see "traces" of Xiao Chunsheng: when it comes to the character Chen Hongjun in the play, he always says "Hong Jun'er". Those were the Beijing movies and Er Huayin that I practiced when filming started. "Ouch" and "Ouch" were all words on Xiao Zhan's lips.

The language, objects and sense of time are all okay. For Xiao Zhan, the biggest difference from Xiao Chunsheng is his personality. He is an "I person" who enjoys being alone, while Xiao Chunsheng is the complete opposite. He makes many friends and loves to socialize too much. Measured by today's standards, this extreme warm-heartedness often means a lack of a sense of boundaries. "The times are developing faster and faster. Today's young people are living a fast-paced life and will not easily cross the boundaries of getting along." Xiao Zhan commented, "But Xiao Chunsheng is an extremely meddlesome person, so it is easy to offend Someone else." When he read the script, he was quite intimidated by this role and felt that it would be difficult to act like it. But after hesitating for a long time, a thought suddenly caught his attention: Maybe the qualities we care about today contain exactly what we need.

Fresh, this is Xiao Zhan’s summary of Xiao Chunsheng and his contemporaries. "If you hate them, you hate them. If you like them, you like them. Don't you think the colors of each of them are particularly bright?" he asked. Even now, when thinking back to some scenes in "The Sea in Dreams", he still feels that the characters are shining brightly and vividly.

After playing Xiao Chunsheng, a person who is far away from current values, Xiao Zhan also gained something in terms of mentality: don't be afraid of making mistakes. He said: "A truly lovable character will have imperfections." During the filming, he once asked the director if it was particularly annoying for Xiao Chunsheng to worry so much about others. The director told him that it was precisely because of this "annoyance" that he was Xiao Chunsheng, and "annoyance" was his charm.

The director's words suddenly awakened Xiao Zhan. Sometimes he would fall into a strange circle, hoping to avoid and correct the imperfections of the character. "When you change it like this, the character itself loses its charm." Xiao Zhan said, "So I think you should not be afraid when doing homework for the character. Be enthusiastic when you should be enthusiastic, and cross the boundary when you should. If you always consider the character's The shortcoming is, thinking about what will happen if the audience scolds me, it will be difficult to act." Because actors play roles, not personalities.

Not being afraid of flaws, to some extent, also means the courage and ability to seek truth. "Sunshine by my Side" is Xiao Zhan's first appearance in an urban workplace drama. His reason for taking on this drama is simple: modern dramas are too close to reality and everyone is living it, so it is difficult to perform it to make everyone believe it. Because he was unsure and confident, he firmly believed that he would learn something after "gnawing" it down. Thus, the character Sheng Yang came into being.

"Sunshine by my Side" made Xiao Zhan realize that urban dramas rely heavily on the cooperation between actors. Because it is more life-like, every point will not be stuck, and the lines and performances will be slightly adjusted. "We are all living people, and we do not exist to maintain a persona. What everyone does, says, and expresses emotions are natural, reasonable, and flowing. If you change, my performance will also change. It will change accordingly." Xiao Zhan said that this kind of creative coupling eliminates the possibility of actors being rigid and mechanical, so it is a fresh and fun experience.

Sheng Yang is a designer, which happens to be the job that Xiao Zhan has done. With personal experience, flexibility during performance can be guaranteed. "When Shengyang wanted to draw the design drawings, I would actually draw them there. Sometimes I would tell them, art teacher, your layers seem to be locked and I can't move." Xiao Zhan recalled, " Because it's his own life, he's better at it. Can you say that? Okay." He never forgets his sense of proportion when it comes to his true feelings.

Xiao Zhan is no stranger to TV series with fantasy themes. "Yuguyao" is the most recent example. For him, acting in a play with such an imaginary background requires a process of starting from scratch. Facing a green screen, if you want to imagine extreme weather or breathtaking scenery, you need to create it yourself. As for whether the state is real and whether the emotion is subtle, more often than not, one has to trust the evaluation made by the director behind the monitor.

Whether it is a costume drama or a modern drama, Xiao Zhan always has a clear understanding of the script and characters. "There are always few good things at any time, which is why people always say that they are rare." He recalled his observations over the years, "Some scripts may be considered good by the industry, but the market feedback may not be so good. Everyone What is the definition of good? Is it good sales or good word-of-mouth? It's hard to judge." Therefore, what he can do now is to return to his own understanding and feelings and choose what he thinks is the best. Role. As for what role he most wants to play, Xiao Zhan said: "I have been mentioning it for many years, a cute and charming villain, if I get the chance."

=======

When reading the script of "Where Dreams Begin", Xiao Zhan's mind would be filled with photos of his parents when they were young.

Dad is riding a bicycle, and mom is sitting in the back seat, wearing a red skirt and a white shirt. When passing a big rock, my father took a photo of my mother as a souvenir. She smiles brightly in the camera, looking like a bright girl. When it was his turn to play the role of his parents in their youth, he tried his best to restore the freshness and even madness of youth. He did not want to deliberately portray the story in a rigid and serious direction just because it was a story about his father's generation.

Xiao Zhan seems to have a special sense of time. He is nostalgic. Whether singing in variety shows and evening parties, or listening to them in private, he always has a preference for old songs. They are memorable, rich in meaning, and give him space to think.

When he was a child, he didn't have much pocket money, so Xiao Zhan would go to the video store to rent CDs, or exchange CDs and tapes with his classmates. The prices can still be clearly remembered to this day. To this day, he still has the CD player and Walkman he used back then in his home. Sometimes, he returns to wired headphones because they are convenient and easy to find. In the dead of night, he would occasionally think of objects that were gradually disappearing in the torrent of time. Being alone, with his heart flowing, is his comfortable state.

Xiao Zhan said that he is a very homely person and has to stay at home. During his spare time, he just works out and watches movies. He never regards watching movies as a task. He watches everything regardless of genre, whether it is popular movies such as popcorn movies or niche movies such as art films. Recently, he watched "The Fall", the best film at the 2023 Cannes International Film Festival.

Around New Year, he often revisits "Love Actually" and watches it again every two or three years. The reason is also very straightforward. The family, love, and friendship in the movie all convey truth, goodness and beauty, which makes people feel heart-warming when watching them.

"Don't you think that the emotions between people have never changed? Old movies will always be read and watched, and old songs will always be listened to over and over again, because the emotions sung by truly classic works remain unchanged through the ages. Only sincerity can move people." Xiao Zhan seemed to have a sudden inspiration and compared it with AI, "I think AI cannot replace humans. Maybe its technology can one day surpass the limits of humans, but that kind of complex emotions , humans far surpass computers. It can be said that humans are the most accurate, mysterious, and complex supercomputers."

Xiao Zhan will pay attention to AI, just like he pays attention to all new things in the world that are deeply related to people. He watched the news and read things written by AI. The depth of thought and logic of thinking made him incredible. Perhaps, in some job competitions, the threat of AI to human beings is already close at hand, but he still firmly believes that AI cannot replace face-to-face communication between people, whether it is immediacy or complexity.

When these distant concerns about new things are temporarily put aside, Xiao Zhan also has his own expectations for the world.

When filming "Ace Troops" a few years ago, in order to play a soldier who was concerned with the national image, Xiao Zhan observed and trained in the army for more than a week. He got up at five or six in the morning every day and ate and lived with the soldiers. After performing this play, he felt the cruelty of war and understood the hard-won peace. "I cherish my current life more. This is the truth." Xiao Zhan said. Therefore, the current vision of world peace may also be related to infinite distances and countless people.

As for his expectations for himself, he outlined it more simply: "I have done very well in 2023, and I hope I can maintain it." After thinking for a while, he added: "In 2024, I hope to love myself more and care more. Some of my own feelings and thoughts. This sentence is not only for myself, but also for everyone."

In Xiao Zhan's mind, he is different on screen and in real life. In private, he will not modify himself too much, nor will he dress too brightly. He just wants to be natural and true to himself.

"Just like the current chat, just keep it in this comfortable state. I won't change my face and play another person." Xiao Zhan said, "It's too tiring. Too tiring." He repeated twice all over.

A poet wrote, "My heart is slightly larger than the entire universe." Outside Xiao Zhan's small space, there is the restraint of "strategy" and the vastness of "universe".

LINK TO THE ARTICLE

#xiao zhan #accio victuuri translation #what a busy day wtf #what an insightful piece!!!!#OMG NOW I WANNA REWATCH LOVE ACTUALLY!!!!!#and yes i love the era of cds!!!!!#i can totally relate to the nostalgia cause i’m one year older than him #and i love that they talked about AI

80 notes · View notes

rushtoprove · 1 year

Text

the things we do for love

summary: Aemma Velaryon is the daughter of the Princess Rhaenyra and betrothed to Aemond Targaryen. Their young love blinds them to the bitterness between their families, but slowly their fantasy begins to unravel with time. How did the purest of love turn into such bitter hatred?

7. heightened tension After eight years, Aemma and Aemond are forced to meet again. The two find it hard to differentiate between desire and despair.

masterlist

word count: 4433

i'm going to end the taglist because half the names don't link and i've convinced myself this story is going to go way to long and people will get annoyed at being tagged becuase this is only the start really.

warnings: 18+ mention of gore and violence. heavy sexual references and nsfw scenes. medieval period misogyny. dark!aemond and dark!aemma. you don't survive the game of thrones being nice. read at your own discretion. aemond and aemma don't understand love. lots of swearing.

“Exciting. Exciting.” The single word had been muttered repeatedly for the past half an hour. The constant reminder of what was approaching, who was approaching, had Aemond on the verge of slicing his knife clean against his father’s neck. Once again, the young prince found himself shoulder to shoulder with his family, this time wating for the arrival of Aemma Velaryon. His father had received the news that his granddaughter was arriving at midday and found the impending appearance to be a most joyous occasion and declared the whole court must wait in the yard for her arrival. It seemed he was the only person excited for the return of the bastard. The Hightower clan stood sombrely by King Viserys’s side.

“Brother. You could say you are sick. You can go back to your chambers.” Helaena whispered quietly in his ear while they stood, sweating underneath the hot sun. Aemond stayed silent, but he did straighten his back and sharpen his glare. He would not cower beneath this cunt of a woman, but instead he planned on making this visit hell for her. The empty eye socket of the prince had been aching since the moment he had been told of this dreaded visit, but he could not decipher whether the pain was truly there. He cursed over it being something that only ached at the mention of his old friend, a physiological scar from what he had been through that night. Their leather and silks weighed them down in the heat and Aegon cursed over how late this was becoming.

“Perhaps we should wait in the keep husband? She may have been delayed?” Alicent delicately placed her hand upon her husband’s arm and tried to guide him away, but Viserys shrugged her away and clutched tightly upon the railing before him.

“She shall not be much longer. Perhaps the rest of our dear family has decided to attend. It takes time to ready many dragons.” Aemond and Aegon both scoffed at their father’s suggestion. It would be a dream come true for the old king to have his family reunited once more, but all knew that Rhaenyra and her bastards would not step foot in King’s Landing. Alicent simply frowned at her sons before turning forward and staring stoically towards the entrance.

"Perhaps she needed to make a stop on the way here.” Helaena quietly suggested, and her father simply muttered an agreement. He did not truly hear her words.

“Perhaps she fell, landed on a tree and the branch ripped out her eye?” Aegon whispered his suggestion to his brother before dissolving into quiet laughter. Aemond could not help the corner of his mouth curving at the idea. What sweet justice that would be.

“Perhaps.”

“OPEN THE GATES!” The order was screamed out and the yard was immediately silenced. Everyone seemed to hold their breath in anticipation, and Aemond seemed to be hit by the reality of who he was about to meet. As the gates were slowly raised, the sound of metal clanking and wood creaking faded. His vision blurred and he found he could no longer see anything before him. The blood from his face rushed inwards, leaving him pale and his forehead clammy, and his knuckles tightened into a ball. He ignored the feeling of blood trickling down tightened fists. He forgot he had been twirling his dagger only moments ago.

“Lord Corlys of House Velaryon! Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark!” The guard announced as everyone watched the mighty Lord Corlys ride in upon his horse. An array of wagons and soldiers followed the old soldier, but his granddaughter was nowhere to be found. With deep breaths Aemond centred himself in his reality and glared forward ominously.

“Your majesties. Your grace’s.” Corlys moved to bow before them once off his horse, but Viserys seemed deaf to his greeting.

“I do not see Aemma.” He craned his neck and leaned forward, making three soldiers shoot forward to catch the man if he fell. While everyone turned their attention to the King, Aemond allowed his gaze to stay on Corlys and watched the uneasiness that took over him.

“Our granddaughter decided to pay a visit to her lady mother. I expected her to already be here but perhaps she has been delayed?” He offered up the reasonable explanation, but Viserys was quickly riddled with fear.

“We shall send out a party to find her! We do not know what has happened!” The king stumbled away while the vision of her falling from her dragon mid journey once again flashed in Aemond’s mind, and by Aegon’s giggles, you could assume his as well. It was quickly put to an end by the echo of a large screech filling the sky. The courtiers cowered as the noise grew louder and watched in fear as a shadow darkened the yard.

“Ah! Here she is.” Corlys smiled and moved to stand beside the royal family while Alicent gasped out shockingly.

“She cannot think to land it here! She must go to the dragonpit!” No one could reply, but instead everyone watched as the mighty beast slowed its speed to land. The fast-approaching claws and the wings that seemed to extend over the castle left many running to seek shelter, but Aemma seemed uncaring as she allowed her fearsome dragon Terax to land within the walls of the courtyard. The moment its feet touched the ground it let out a roar that seemed to shake the foundations of King’s Landing and Aemond could not help but reach out a protective arm Infront of his mother.

“The fucking idiot.” He seethed quietly into his mother’s ear while she clutched him in shock. Helaena had been moved to shelter by Sir Criston while Aegon had slyly stepped behind his brother. Viserys and Corlys smiled widely.

“Aemma!” Viserys could not contain his excitement as he watched a figure fall from the saddle. Bright silver hair swayed with every step she took, and Aemond found himself unable to breathe. The closer she got the clearer her features became. He had spent eight years imaging how her appearance would have matured, but nothing compared to reality. She held the true beauty of a Targaryen, with her deep blue eyes and flawless skin. Her face was sharper and her back straight, the stance no longer carefree like it was in childhood. Her saunter was dominating under the gaze of all the courtiers, and she held herself in the way only a noble princess could.

“Grandsire.” She smirked before pulling off her gloves with her teeth. She kept her eyes on Viserys and Corlys, ignoring the figures looming beside them, and only bowed to the king. She heard the whispers from the courtiers, who had scurried back to their places, over the obvious snub towards the Hightower’s.

“Terax must be taken to the pit!” Someone called out in horror making Aemma let out a laugh.

“You may try!” She was delighted in their fear. Stalking forward proudly, Aemma managed to hide the nausea and fear that was pulsing through her perfectly. She had been dreading this moment all week, or more to the point eight years.

“Come! You have grown so beautiful. So mature! You are a lady now!” Going against all protocol, the king pulled her tightly into him and placed a firm kiss upon her head. Something deep inside Aemond ached at the display of affection from his father, but he chose to ignore the feeling. Aemma used the opportunity of being buried in the kings' arms, to quickly gaze upon the cunts beside him. Alicent had her mouthed turned down in its corners, staring at the scene in anguish. Aegon and Helaena were also staring in despair as if the act foreign. But it was Aemond who she truly cared to see. Her breath hitched at the site of his sharp jawline, his slender towering figure. His hair silver that seemed to sit perfectly upon his broad frame. She let her eyes hover over his eyepatch before moving down his body before his attention was caught by his bloodied hand.

“You’re late.” Corlys scolded her while quickly squeezing Aemma’s shoulder. Being brought back to herself, Aemma shrugged and straightened herself.

“Mother would not stop crying, and Luke tried to clutch on to Terax’s leg. It was quite the scene.” Viserys laughed loudly at the thought of his lost family and let his arm wrap around Aemma. She flinched as his joyous laughter turned into and awful coughing fit that seemed louder than all the dragons in the kingdom combined.

“Princess Aemma. It has been a long time since we saw you last.” Alicent tried to force a smile, but it seemed to resemble more a grimace. Aemma tilted her head in fake thought.

“Yes. Eight years now. Last I saw you; you were chasing me around trying to carve out my eye.”

“Aemma...” Corlys tried to hiss out a warning, but Aemma breathed out and turned to Aemond with a sickingly sweet smile.

“Speaking of losing an eye, what do you plan on doing with that dagger?” Everyone turned to follow Aemma’s gaze and watched as Aemond slowly uncurled the fingers that had wrapped around the blade. Blood seeped from his wound making Heleana gasp and move to reach for the bloodied palm, but he shook her off and stepped forward ominously.

“I have not decided.” Aemond seethed at how proud she stood. She was nothing more than a bastard and an animal. Aemma had taken his eye without a second thought and now she had the nerve to stand before him with a grin. He should take her life then and there.

“Come now Aemond. Is that the way to greet an old friend?” Aemma was overwhelmed with hatred for the man. She remembered the threats he had cursed at her the last time they had seen one another, the vile insults he had hurled at her family. She should take his life then and there.

“Princess Aemma.” Aemond and Aemma stood staring at one another intensely, but the small greeting left her no choice but to slowly tilt her head to see who called for her. Princess Helaena stood with a bright grin and was almost as excited as her father. She had been let down many times believing her family would return, but now that they stood before one another she was in a happy disbelief.

“Princess Helaena. My, you are a sight.” Aemma tried to hide the shock of Helaena’s good nature, but she could not hide it when she took in how large Helaena’s stomach had grown. The small girl seemed to almost be buckling under the weight of her pregnancy, but no struggle could be seen on her face.

“I have missed you so dearly. It has been so long!” Before Aemma could register, she was getting pulled into another hug while everyone stood tensely around the two girls. Helaena squeezed so tight Aemma thought it might have been a plan of attack. Perhaps she thought to steal the breaths from her lungs and watch in glee as she dropped dead in that very moment. But when Helaena pulled back still smiling and with tears in her eyes, Aemma knew her to still be just the gentle and loving princess from her youth.

“Yes. A long time. Let us get you sitting for I can’t imagine how it feels carrying that around.” Pointing towards Helaena’s swollen stomach, Aemma winked then turned on her heel to stalk forward. She made sure to push her shoulder hard into Aemond’s on the way past. Without fault everyone stumbled forward to follow her, leaving the Hightower’s to curse at their lapse of strength.

“How goes your mother Aemma?” Visery’s heaved as he tried to keep up with her quick pace, but it was fruitless as his knees began shaking and his walking stick wobbled.

“Pregnant. Again! I told her she needs another pastime!” Aemma called it out from over her shoulder but did not slow down to walk with her grandsire as he roared out another laugh. He began coughing straight away. Lord Corly’s took the moment to speed up and fall into step with the young princess.

“Have you forgotten why we are here?” His voice was low with disappointment, but Aemma cared not for his lecture.

“Daemon thinks he is getting poisoned by those green cunts. And looking at the man I think it to be true as well. Those leaches are killing him slowly and controlling his power. The bastards must...”

“We are here to gain funds for our war efforts Aemma. And you are right. The power now lies with the Hightower’s so bringing up past issue and taunting those ‘green cunts’ will only weaken our standing. It is crucial we do this right Aemma. The lives of our soldiers depend on it.”

“So, we are to suck up to those who wish us dead? Who wish our family dead? I hear the whispers Grandsire. I know they are still whispering of the legitimacy of myself and my brothers. They are treacherous foes, and I will not stand to watch this kingdom crumble under their forceful clutches. I will let every soldier die if it means I can rid this realm of green.”

“Then you are a fool Aemma. You are blinded by hatred and nothing good will come from your need for revenge.” If not for the following crowd trying to catch what was being talked so quickly about, Aemma would have halted and turned to the man in anger and made sure he would never press her again. However, Aemma had enough wit about her to know this conversation needed to stay private, so instead she wrapped their arms together and pulled herself to be resting her head on his shoulder. It would look affectionate to onlookers, but Aemma leaned in close and spat the words into his ear.

“I care not for revenge. I only care that my family is safe. That the shame and fear they are forced to hide from is crushed at the very source. Do not lower me to nothing but a crazed woman Corlys. I do not take lightly to men looking down on the future heir of the seven kingdoms. I will have their heads. Nothing will change that. Not even little Helaena being so naïve to think we are still bonded. All those wicked cunts will die.” She threw back her head and laughed as if she had made a joke to the onlookers, but her grandsire remained quiet in thought.

“You are too much like Daemon. You think I do not burn at the sight before us. Your grandfather, although we have had our disagreements, has been a strong leader and kind man. It pains me to see him so frail... so weak. Otto Hightower has been my enemy since the days of our time on the small council. If I had it my way the bastard would have died by my hand many years ago. But it is important to remain collected in moments like these. Please, just follow my lead and not that of your... of your stepfather.” The two stared at each other as they finally reached the banquet hall and remained quiet as everyone finally caught up. The conversation could go no further.

“You have a fast walk, Princess Aemma.” Otto Hightower had a way of sound as if he was talking down to anyone he ever met. Aemma wanted his head on the end of her sword.

“Battle keeps me moving Otto. Perhaps you need some time in a war to sharpen your senses.” Aemma seethed at the old man who simply smirked down at the girl.

“A woman. On the battlefield. You are a phantom little Aemma. A unique specimen. This kingdom shall be grateful for such a capable ruler.” The king was heaving as he made his way past and into the dining hall. From the corner of her eye, she saw the queen and her children move forward to follow him, so she quickly moved forward to cut them off and take her place beside the King. She revelled in the whispers of the courtiers that stood analysing each move between the family.

“Is she allowed to do that?” Aegon scoffed in wonder as he watched Aemma walk into the room before Queen Alicent.

“Must you be so awed by the bitch brother?” Aemond growled as he pushed the imbecile forward to follow. All he could hear was the rushing of blood within him. It felt as if everything was coming to the surface, and he was to burst at that very moment.

“Ah you are not one to jest about awe brother. We both know where your sick obsession...” Aegon stopped the taunting as he felt the blade of Aemond’s dagger press firmly into his lower back.

“I dare you to say one more word.” They were both tense as they walked into the hall while Helaena waddled behind them.

“Come Helaena.” Aegon grunted at how slow his wife moved making Aemond’s entire auror darken even further. Pulling back, he reached out for his sister’s hand and guided her to the head of the tables, where the rest of their family was making themselves ready. Alicent dutifully places herself at her husband’s side, Lord Corlys sits on the other side of the king.

“Oh, what of Aemma?” He coughed out, but Aemma simply placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Only one seat further down.” She spun on her toes with a smile but was instantly halted and found herself glaring at who was to be seated beside her. Aemond and Aemma both held tightly onto their neighbouring chairs as they realised, they would have to sit beside one another. Neither could move, and the tension they shared between one another seemed to seep into the entire hall. Everyone went silent, waiting to see what would happen.

“Princess.” Aemond’s jaw was tight and his posture stiff, so watching the sight off the man pull out her chair made Aemma smirk and suppress a spiteful laugh.

“Ever the gentlemen Prince Aemond.” She graceful took her seat but was unable to notice Aemond flexing his hand as it hovered above the exposed skin of her neck. He stood staring at the soft flesh in desperate need making him hate himself entirely. He could not deny the desire that had flooded his veins, but he swore to never act upon it. When he had not yet taken to his chair, Aemma turned to look at him from beneath her eyelashes and for the hundredth time that day Aemond found his breath caught. His eyes could not move from her neck as he came to the realisation that tightly clasped around it was the sapphire necklace that she had made to celebrate his thirteenth name day. His covered eye burned at the thought of that fucking sapphire..

“Come brother. I need to have a goblet.” Aegon pulled his younger brother away from the court’s curious gaze leaving Aemond to rigidly take his place between his brother and his nemesis. He ignored the worried stares from his mother and his sister, instead choosing to snatch the wine from his brother and begin to pour himself a much-needed drink.

“And I too.” Aemma’s voice was low as she pushed her empty goblet forward, leaving Aemond no choice but to politely fill hers as well. He cursed her for such an obvious show of power.

“Take it.” He growled pushing back the only half-filled cup making Aemma roll her eyes.

“Please. Why are you offended?” She snapped at him before quickly throwing the goblet back and downing it in one breath. Aemond did the very same thing.

“Do no humour me. Why are you here?” His growl shook her to her core, but it was in the most delicious way.

“Not to see you if that is what worries you. I am on business from the Stepstones.”

“Begging for assistance from the crown, I am sure. You are weak. Your army failing. So here you are, crawling back on your hands and knees wanting for nothing. Do you have no shame little Aemma. Were your plans not to never return? To kill me if you saw me once more?” Aemond poured himself a wine as he jeered at Aemma, but seemed not to notice himself move to refill her cup.

“I believe I said I would only harm you if you were to pose any threat to my family. I also did not say I would kill you. I simply said I shall take your other eye. Also, what does the wine have to do with this?” Taking the dagger Aemond had left a top the table, Aemma began twirling it into the polished wood, and they watched as it slowly shaved it away. Aemond’s dried blood was left to flake away onto the wood beneath.

“You find it so easy to jest of that night.” Aemond turned his stare forward, leaving him unable to see the way Aemma stops for only a moment, ready to disagree. But instead, she too turns her attention forward. They sit in silence for some time, listening carelessly to talks of the nobles around them. Aemma could truly pay attention to nothing but the heat that seemed to radiate of Aemond beside her. She cursed herself internally as she found herself squeezing her thighs together tightly. To Aemma’s surprise, she noted Rodrick floating around holding tightly onto his sword. He was aware of the tension between these families, and he would not hesitate to save the princess. With a smirk, she beckoned him forward to stand before herself, and happened to be in front of Aemond.

“I did not see you when I landed?” Aemma questioned, the dagger still digging into the table between herself and the prince.

“I stopped to see my mother. You gave me the idea.” Aemma scoffed, remembering the harassment he had made her endure, desperate for her to contact her mother.

“You are funny.” She did not smile as she said it, making Rodrick smile softly.

“And how was your mother?”

“Pregnant.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Aemond finally snapped, turning his rage towards the lowborn knight that had considered himself worthy to step up towards the royal table.

“This is Sir Rodrick. My sworn protector.” The man bowed as Aemma introduced him, smiling into her wine goblet.

“Must you chat so loudly? I am beginning to get a headache.” Aemond glared at both. Rodrick bowed and turned to leave but Aemma was having too much fun.

“My mother was grateful you managed to convince me to visit Dragonstone. She is hoping to meet you one day Rodrick.” Aemma made sure Aemond was witness to the flirtatious gaze she sent the knight.

“I would be honoured, your grace.” He eyed Aemma the same way making Aemond flex out his hands and place them flat out across the table before him.

“Perhaps after this visit I shall fly you to their home?”

“You know I will not go on that dragon. I much prefer to simply watch you atop that beast.” Biting her lip, Aemma made sure Aemond could see her cross her legs over one another. Lightly trailing her fingers atop her skirts, Aemma allowed her eyes to linger upon the knight for a moment. She did not truly want him, but to Aemond it would look the case. The prince watched in disgust as the man finally moved away and turned his darkened gaze to the cunt beside him.

“You are just like your mother, I see.” He snarled out the comment, and Aemma instantly let the dagger come to a still. Slowly turning, she become alert to the danger.

“A powerful heir?” Aemond snorted as if he had heard a joke.

“An interesting choice. Your age it seems. And handsome. For what duties did you choose the boy for?” Aemond’s gaze did not break from Aemma, who was now scratching the dagger into the table. The blade moving back and forth between them made them both tense for what was to come.

“Sir Rodrick has been by my side for years now. He understands the true nature of what it is to be in a battle. I need someone like him to protect me. Not a boy who play pretends with a wooden sword in training yard as to show off in tournaments. “

“You are a liar. Your intention with that scum is obvious. Like mother like daughter Aemma.”

“You best be very careful with what you are about to say.” She gave a final warning as she looked at Aemond. For a quick second she had a random memory of them laughing in their secret field hidden across the beach. Throwing their heads back and giggling like the children they were.

“You lust for men in armour just like her. Is he your Harwin Strong? Are you to whore yourself out to someone so beneath you. Mother his bastards. Bring shame to this ancient family? You are nothing more than a...” Aemond was silenced by the all too familiar sound of his blade slicing through the air. The flash of silver almost crippled him instantly and he had no choice but to squeeze shut his last remaining eye. He was sure he would not open it again.

“Aemma!” Corlys cried out as the hall screamed out in shock. Alicent sprung to her knees to defend Aemond once more.

“Be lucky it was not your last eye Aemond Targaryen.” He slowly peeled back his gaze to see Aemma had shoved his dagger between the gap in his fingers, causing no damage to anything but the table beneath. Sir Criston bolted forward to pull Aemma away, but Aemond quickly stood to his feet and placed his arm out to halt his movements.

“It is fine. The princess slipped.” He looked down as she stood to face him. They were close, and if it was just them in a room perhaps it would be intimate. But the eyes of the courtiers and the dagger stabbed between them made it nothing more than a staring contest.

“I am sick.” She stated loudly. Twisting harshly, Aemond felt her hair whip into his face, and watched her stomp off with Corlys running behind her.

Closing his eyes, Aemond breathed in deep. He had missed the floral scent of her hair.

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond x oc

358 notes · View notes

turbulentscrawl · 6 months

Text

Identity(V) Headcanons: Naib Subedar

yall know the drill ;) If you like how I write the characters, consider sending me a request or matchup!

I also don't really have the patience to sit on my posts for a few days and check for mistakes, so forgive my typos hahah

-Naib got into his line of work out of necessity, not desire. He has never enjoyed taking lives…but he is both very good at it and very professional about it. He’s survived so long, in part, by being good at compartmentalizing his emotions. Work is work, and life outside is not, and he’s somehow managed to separate the two without separating his mental state. Nevertheless, he’s a very different person when he’s on the job and he would prefer that his loved ones didn’t see that.

-Outside of work, Naib shares Norton’s sentiments of all life being created equal. Unlike Norton, however, he uses this as a motivation to protect people rather than concern himself with revenge. That’s not to say he won’t step in if someone is out of line, but he is primarily focused on contributing good to the world in his free time.

-That said, Naib’s moral compass has become a bit warped over the years. He does his best to be a good person, but at a certain point someone can have so much blood on them that it starts to color their vision. The opposite of rose-colored glasses, if you will. He is, however, an accurate and consistent judge of character, so he often thinks about his course-of-actions in the frame of ‘would my mother be proud of me for this?’ That helps a lot with any difficult decisions.

-Naib “gets along” with most people. Being rough around the edges as he is sometimes makes it difficult for people to tell where they stand with him, but in truth he’s very vocal when he doesn’t like someone. It generally takes someone intentionally and repeatedly antagonizing him before he starts to develop a negative opinion. Otherwise, he maintains politeness.

-He is very slow to let people in, however. Naib’s life is dangerous and fleeting, so even when he likes someone he’s hesitant to get close to them. Outside of the manor, he’s a genuine slow-burn sort. A real “we’ve known one another for years and I’ve liked you for almost as long but I wont let myself have you until it’s entirely too much to take and I initiate an explosive night of passion” sort. Inside the manor, though, I think it’s more of a “we take comfort where we can get it, and then it slowly becomes real” sort of thing.

-Used to being the man of the house, Naib has a habit of trying to speak on behalf of or otherwise handle people’s problems for them. Again, he’s a good judge of character, so he’s pretty accurate in gauging how people would want situations handled…but this can still cause tension with friends and partners who are more independent. And if you talk to him about wanting to handle something yourself? There’s a non-zero chance he’ll go behind your back and take care of it anyway.

-The best love languages for Naib are Gift Giving and Words of Affirmation! He likes receiving thoughtful gifts—specifically ones that help in his everyday life, or resolve an issue he’s having. (Even if that issue is just “I’m hungry” and you pick up some of his favorite snacks.) He also likes little trinkets that he can easily carry around to remind him of the giver when he travels. Naib also tends to give kind words the benefit of the doubt, so he accepts verbal affection without argument or doubt. Everything he does is for his loved ones, and he likes to know that he’s appreciated, loved, and missed when he’s gone. Letters are amazing too; he keeps every letter and picture he receives and treats them with as much care as possible.

-Naib could not be close with someone who has a problem with his work. He understands why they would, he himself is rather tired of it.... But he’s been doing this for too long and is in too deep to leave. He and his mother cannot afford for him to quit being a mercenary and take the time to try learning some other skill that may or may not keep food on the table as consistently. You don’t have to like his work, but it can’t be something you hound him about. If you don’t talk about it, neither will he, and you can both just pretend it doesn’t happen.

-He’s a walking garbage can. I mean it, he can and will eat anything provided to him. He has preferences of course, but after years of food insecurity and then subsequent years of service-provided meals, he’s learned to not be picky. He also never outgrew the habit of rationing and hiding food in case of emergencies, and is an avid believer in the 5-second rule because he dislikes wasting food.

-Because he eats so much--and in spite of having irregular sleep patterns—Naib always has a lot of energy. This is useful for work and matches but also shows itself in other ways…such as being a very animated conversationalist. (per the stageplay lol) It’s only obvious when he’s moderately comfortable, but Naib might legitimately be incapable of sitting still when he’s not on guard.

-He’s pretty bad at making jokes. His sense of humor came from his years in the service, surrounded by brothers-in-arms. As a result, his idea of good-natured joking is completely ragging on people. Norton is the main person in the manor who gets this, but it leaves most other people to wonder if they’re actually friends or if they hate one another.

#idv x reader #identity v #naib subedar #idv mercenary #naib subedar x reader #turbulentscrawl #identity v x reader

87 notes · View notes

handweavers · 5 months

Text

my uncle was a complicated man who often made it difficult to be around him - he was frequently abrasive, struggled to give affection freely, and his love and concern usually expressed itself through a harsh and abrupt, stilted demeanor. he could be very angry a lot of the time, a deep seated rage and a callousness at times that stung and wounded. but he had a difficult upbringing, and it was easy to understand why he was the way he was. he was born during the japanese occupation of malaya during ww2 when my family was interned, and many members of our family and the sikh community were targeted for beheading and lynching by the japanese imperial army. my family was very poor back then, and repeated traumas and losses and abuse had hardened him. he struggled with alcohol addiction all his life, like most in my family, and he could be very cruel when he would drink.

but i'll never forget how he made an effort to take care of me and make sure i knew he loved me. the first time i returned home to malaysia as an adult, on my own, after being kept away for many years by my father, i had to reconnect with my family on my own, with my home country on my own, without his help or guidance. and my uncle showed me a degree of kindness that no one expected, and embraced me without hesitation when i came out as trans, and enforced that among the family. no one could go against him, he was the patriarch of the entire extended family, and his word was law. his approval of me meant even those who would have shunned me had to tolerate me or risk being shunned themselves - he held that much power. and when i was going to fly back to canada he called me at the airport just to tell me he loved me and that this is my home and my family and no one can take that away from me and that i belong here and he will miss me. he rarely spoke like that to anyone, ever, even his own children. it was deeply uncomfortable and difficult for him but he did it anyway because he felt like it was important, that i was important. and he took care of me in many ways over the years, and if it weren't for him i likely would have been/would be homeless and would never have been able to go to university at all. and now without him i definitely can't afford any of that and i'm not sure what to do with myself. he made sure repeatedly and consistently to communicate in whatever way he could to tell me that he cared, in his own ways, and to step in where my father could/would not.

the last time i saw him was in august of this year when we had lunch together, and he told me i did well and he was proud of me to be the one to finally bring my dad home, knowing how awful my dad is. he and i were the closest living relatives to my dad and the people who knew him best, and i could go to him for help when my dad was making things very hard for me and he understood. he was the only other person still alive who could wrangle my dad, who could 'deal' with him, set him in his place. my other uncle could do the same, and he also took care of me and made sure to check on me and remind me that i am a part of this family and that i belong with them, but he passed away when i was 19. now it's just me left to deal with my dad without either of my uncles' help, and no one else alive who knows what it's like to be tied to him directly in the way that we are. and i didn't get to say goodbye, and i didn't get to attend the funeral nor help scatter his ashes to the sea. when i go home every part of him will be gone gone gone and never coming back and there's nothing i can do.

117 notes · View notes

idontplaytrack · 6 days

Text

Band-aids, candy or me

Janis ‘Imi’ike x trans reader(FTM)

Warnings: fluff, some coarse language, mentions of needles/injections

In which, a forgetful reader fails to take their necessary shots if it weren’t for Janis. So Janis had to think of a way to motivate you

I hope I did your request justice, please correct me if I’d used any wrong terminologies. I have never written anything like this before and did the most research I could to educate myself prior to this but I am still learning.

You’d been dating Janis for several months. Ten to be exact. But you two have been friends for years— since you two were in middle school. She’s been with you through it all and has been incredibly supportive of your journey. Janis has stuck with you through thick and thin, and when you were with her, you felt you had no worries in the world. She’s always been there for you even through her worst days where Regina George had been making fun of her together with the whole school. Yeah, things were terrible, but you two knew that you’d always have each others backs. Your family was fortunately supportive, but nothing compares to what you felt with Janis. That was a whole other level of love.

You and Janis naturally got from the best friends stage to dating so naturally that you two didn’t even realise it until she confessed. Damian was and has always been yours and Janis’ biggest supporter. And you two loved him for that. The process was daunting at first because it was so new to you- you had to learn a lot about it and make sure everything was done right and safely. You knew it was the right thing for you, and Janis was undoubtedly there by your side every step of the way. Right now, the worst part of it all was the shots you had to give yourself.

You’ve always been forgetful and Janis always had to remind you repeatedly just so you wouldn’t forget to take them. After awhile, she got a little, creative.

“How about every time you get the shot, I’ll give you a kiss?” She grins playfully, tiptoeing to meet your lips.

You chuckled at her cuteness— something others never got to see. It was great, like your own little secret.

“Mm, no.” You played along, grabbing the bottle and a needle, preparing those and yourself for the shot.

“Oh, no? What do you want then?” She chuckles, helping you with them before you even started.

You bit back a grin, watching her carefully so that the dosage was correct. You never doubted her anyway, but even you yourself had to be extra careful. “How about a little sweet treat afterwards and a kiss?” You suggested jokingly.

“Sure!” Her face lit up, “So, what? Candy, chocolate? Ice cream?”

“Really? I’ll think about it.” You laughed. She helped you with the injection and disposed the sharp object before returning to your side, handing you a bandaid.

“You know I don’t necessarily need one, right?” You took it from between her fingers and put it over the spot anyway.

“I know. But it’s a fun pattern- I thought maybe it could make you look forward to it a little more- I get that getting shots makes you a little nervous.”

“Thanks, baby.” You smiled. She does the same, then pressing a kiss to your cheek. You asked for one on the lips and she delightedly gave it to you.

Janis kept to her word and always gave you a kiss, bandaid and a sweet treat after your weekly shots. It’s taken an important thing and given it some form of…intimacy. She could easily just helped you with the shot itself and called it a day, but no- she decided to make it a thing. She’s always been go big or go home, which you loved.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Don’t even mention it, my love.” She grabs your hand, pressing a kiss on them before letting go and continuing to eat her ice cream.

“Aw, you got ice cream on my hands.” You sulked playfully.

“Sorry.” She gives you a sheepish grin, sticking the spoon back into the dessert.

“But seriously- thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I really am so grateful for you, Jan.”

“I love you.” She answered earnestly, “That’s why. So much.”

“I love you too, baby.” You told her, giving her a tearful smile.

“Don’t cry, babe. Why are you crying?” Her voice was soft as she handed you a napkin for your forming tears.

“Oh, these are happy tears.” You assured, taking the napkin, “You make me feel so safe and happy and loved, Janis. You always have. Always.”

#auli’i cravalho #mean girls 2024 #janis ‘imi’ike #x reader #reader insert #request #requested fic #lgbtqia #sfw fic #drabble

20 notes · View notes

memobread · 1 year

Text

𝕴'𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 - 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖓𝖊 -- (𝕵𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝕯𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖘 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)

=================================

Contents: 1994! Jonathan Davis x reader (tag empty asf), HEAVY mentions of s*xual and mental ab*se, smutty smut, friends to lovers, TONS of fluff, angst, insane amounts of GORE, very violent language, violence, drug and alcohol use, etc.

Honorable mention: @jonathandaviskisser

=================================

~~find my nest full of salt…everything's my fault…~~

Kurt Cobain soothed my weary mind as I lugged my last load down interstate 110, trying not to pass out at the steering wheel. I dreamed of starting my two-week winter break with a sweet night at Wes's, an underground bar below a gas station that sold inexpensive but effective products, my favorite kind. I was in desperate need of a cigarette, just like after any long busy day of trucking. Once I got to the designated location, I heaved off the supplies and signed a few papers. Once I got back in my truck, I sighed in relief. I would have the next two weeks off for winter break. All that was left to do was to go to Wes's and drink the night away. Once I arrived at Wes's through a rough, snowy highway, I filled my truck with gas, parked it in a safe spot, and stopped under the store's awning to look at the snowy night sky. It was strangely beautiful to me, even though it was pitch-black under the streetlamps. I suddenly remembered this was the weekly night that hillbilly Joe Singleton and his wife go on a frenzy of religious insanity. I wanted to kill them both, so I avoided them to keep myself from doing so. I quickly ran inside when I heard their radio blasting behind me. I grabbed a Heath bar from the shelf near me and made my way to the register, waving to the cashier, my best friend, Mikey.

"Damn y/n, you runnin' from the devil or sumn'?" Mikey asked, slightly concerned.

"Yeah, man. Joe and Monica came here to unleash hell." I whispered, keeping an eye out for them.

Mikey leaned forward on locked arms.

"Don't worry about it so much, Y/N. They dumber than rats on PCP."

Mikey knew about my anxiety. He never failed to help me calm down with his humor. He's always been my human antidepressant ever since we were teenagers.

"They came in here earlier today bitchin' at me because we sell pot here." Mikey laughed, putting on his red baseball cap.

Mikey did a typical redneck pose and stuck a rolled-up receipt in his mouth,

"And-And they was all like-"

Mikey slammed his fist down onto the table, a mocking look of disgust.

"YOUSE ALL GOIN' STRAIGHT TO HELL WITH YOUR DEVIL HIPPIE SHIT!!! GOD CAINT STAND FOLK LIKE YOU!!!"

I cracked up laughing, my nerves disappearing mostly.

"Man, when will they accept that the Aryan race isn't a thing anymore!" I laughed, leaning forward on the counter.

That's when Mikey burst out into laughter, playfully slapping me.

"Jesus Christ Y/N…" He wheezed, unable to keep a straight face for even a quarter of a second.

While our laughing fit was happening, we didn't notice Joe and his whore wife hearing our conversation. Joe threw a dime at me to get my attention. My smile instantly faded. Mikey cussed under his breath. We both turned to face the two cunts. They looked as aggravating as ever.

"You two won't be sayin' that shit in the lake of fire, imma tell you that!" Joe snapped, stepping towards us.

Mikey looked like he was about to commit mass homicide.

"Great! I'll see you two there, cocksuckers!" Mikey fumed, flipping Joe the bird.

Joe lunged at Mikey, to which I responded by kicking him in the stomach, making him fall to the floor. Mikey jumped over the counter and started beating the living hell out of Joe while the whore made a beeline for me. I tackled her down and repeatedly punched her with all my might, forcing an annoying squeal out of her. It was the best I had felt in a long time since she reminded me of my mother. It was like I was trying to kill my past. Mikey held off Joe while I got up and stomped on the whore's face repeatedly, blood starting to ooze from her annoying nose. I was laughing while the whore screamed in pain, unable to fight me off. I got back onto her and plunged my fingers down her throat, thrusting them in and out at an inhumane pace until she started vomiting on herself. Nearly screaming with maniacal laughter, I took my vomit-ridden fingers and plunged them back into her throat, making her swallow her vomit. My elbow plummeted to her face, her eye exploding into seeping red. All the memories of her groping Mikey, aiding my mom in assaulting me, stealing my cigarettes, and reminding me of my mother fueled my primal rage while I beat her senseless. I felt like I was taking revenge on my mother; a wave of utter bliss and satisfaction washed over me, causing me to burst out in shrieking laughter before plunging my fingers into her eyes. She burst into tears and screaming when I fingered her eye sockets like my mother did when my brother broke her glasses. Blood spurted out of her eyes and onto my cheek, my maniacal shrieks only getting louder.

"YEAH!!! YEAH!!! TAKE THESE FUCKING FINGERS IN YOUR BLOODY HOLES, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT SLUT!!!" I got up and stomped on her bloody, snot-and-vomit-ridden ugly face.

Tears streamed down her bloody face when she wailed;

"No! Please stop it now! I've d…done *cough* nothin-"

Already having enough of Monica's shit, I jumped up and plummeted back down, my elbow making a beeline for her face before it crashed through her thick skull with all my body weight. I swear I nearly peed myself with joy when I heard her skull crack and a pig-like squeal, followed by loud sobbing and thick, metallic blood soaking my sleeve. I dove onto her and slammed my tight, rock-solid fist into her bloody mess of a face multiple times, each punch getting more lethal. When I looked up, not noticing my surroundings, Mikey knocked Joe unconscious with a bottle of Busch and dragged him back to his car.

"Hold her down with me, Mike!"

Mike rushed over to me and the dying bitch on the floor and gleefully held her wrists above her head.

"Yeah, fuck her up!!" Mikey shouted, spitting on her face before getting up and stomping on it.

"P…Please…..Joe….Joe made me do it…."

"Bullshit!"

In a fit of blind rage, I grabbed Mikey's broken bottle and plunged into Monica's face, lacerating the soft, pink tissue under a chalky burlap sack, blood spurting onto my face. I gave the bottle to Mikey with a bloody grin. He snickered and shredded the bottle side to side in the bitch's torn face, a tent growing in his jeans.

"Wait, wait, Y/N, hold her down for a sec." Mikey panted before standing up and unzipping his fly.

Mikey groaned in pleasure and relief when he pulled out his unit and started pissing on Monica. He and I both laughed maniacally at the humiliation.

"Yo Y/N, you think we should string this bitch upside down from the roof and have folks have their way with her for tips?"

Before I could agree, I felt a thick rope fling around my neck from behind; Joe woke up.

"Shit!" Mikey shouted, trying to fight off Joe but getting kicked by him square in the bare nuts.

Mikey howled in pure agony, his gonads obliterated and his eyes watering.

"Nobody fuckin' touches my wife…" Joe snarled, too shellshocked by anger to yell.

I kicked helplessly against my oxygen restraint, trying to pull off the rope while not being able to reach any punching points on Joe. With merely a few factors of dying, I accepted my fate; I had always wanted this, but I didn't want it to be then. I was having too much fun. My vision started to blur, and my head started racing with memories as Mikey's cries became more distant and inaudible. I flailed in Joe's grip and heard him laugh amid my panic.

"This is what you fuckin' get, slut…"

When I felt like I was a few seconds away from dying, I suddenly heard a loud crack, and I felt glass tumbling down my face and into my lap. Joe's grip went limp instantly, and I started coughing.

"Fucking piece of shit…" I heard a familiar voice spit.

I felt Joe getting hauled out under me, and my head hit the floor, awakening me a bit. With my vision blurry, I could only make out a tall blurry figure with long, dark brown hair kneeling over me.

"…c'mon…" The figure murmured, seeing me struggle to clear my vision.

Once my vision started to clear up, the familiar features of the figure became evident. The pretty, deep inky eyes, the heart-wrenching dorky face, the frazzled long hair; it was none other than Jonathan Davis in the flesh. He was the cute boy I worked at the Fritz warehouse with in high school. He was always shy and never talked to anyone except me. The second we met each other, we hit it off instantly like we needed to be best friends. We would laugh together about the shit we saw in magazines or what we wanted to do when we got older. We would play video games together at the local arcade, and Jon would always beat me at Street Fighter, and I'd have to carry him home as a losing punishment. We would even hang out in a nearby alleyway and eat Chinese food while looking at the smoky sky and talking nonsense.

Yeah Y/N, I kinda wanna start a band, but this job doesn't pay shit for equipment…

Eventually, I fell in love with him, MADLY in love with him. I haven't spent a living second without thinking about him since.

He's so fucking cute-

"Hey!"

I snapped out of my dream-like state, bursting into a coughing fit, aiming my spurting blood away from Jon.

"Shit!" I heard Jon's voice again.

I wasn't hallucinating.

"Agh…fuck…" Mikey's voice trailed closer to where Jon and I were.

Mikey ran to Jon and me once he saw me coughing.

"Oh my god, Y/N!"

Hacking out my last bit of blood, I turned to Jon, shit-and-blood-faced, drooling everywhere. Jon couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Is that…y-*cough*you, Jon?"

"Um…yeah… You look kinda familiar…"

Oh god, please don't fuck this up…

I prayed that he recognized me.

"It's Y/N from high school, remember?"

At that moment, Jon analyzed me, processing the two versions of me. When he realized who I was, his face lit up, morphing the prettiest, most heart-wrenching smile known to the universe. I flung my arms around him and buried my face in his shoulder. Just as shocked as I was, he squeezed me back, providing a comfort I had never received from anyone else.

"I missed you so much…" I whispered into his shoulder, rubbing his back.

Burying his face in my hair and running his fingers through it, Jon said,

"I missed you too, Y/N…a lot…"

Jon hugged me tighter, nuzzling into my hair and groping at my back, leaving no space between us. I swear I almost fell asleep in his warm embrace until Mikey said,

"Yo…uh… Jon?"

Jon lifted his head, all flushed and full of serotonin.

"…mm?"

"You uh… you know Joe?"

Jon chuckled and pulled back a little, still keeping his arm slung around my shoulders.

"Oh, that sister-fucking piece of shit? He narced me and a meth dealer and nearly got us thrown in jail. If his wife hadn't fucked up the evidence on accident."

"Jesus, man…"

"Y-Y'know I was trying to quit, I really was, and I did! I fucking-"

I found myself completely zoning out, only listening to Jon's attractive voice, staring at the veins in his hands, his side profile, his dorky smile, his adorable laugh… I wanted him.

I need him so badly. I need him to know about my feelings for him. I need to-

"Y/N!"

I jolted awake, still semi-conscious and dreaming of Jonathan.

"Shit-sorry…" I coughed, my spit slightly red.

"Oh no no no it's fine Y/N, take your time." Jon wiped my teary eyes with his thumbs.

"Nah you're good Y/N, I was jus' gonna ask if you and Jon're ready t' go to Wes's."

"Oh yeah, mmhmm…" I said.

Jon helped me up, keeping a hint of his cute smile.

"So uh… what's your name?" Jon asked Mikey as we walked to the secret entrance to Wes's.

"Oh, I'm Mikey; I'm a friend of Y/N's."

Jon hummed before Mikey led him and me into the storage cabinet behind the front counter. I entered the code into the number pad attached to the trapdoor on the floor; 110192837. I pried the door with the broomstick handle next to me; the only way to open it.

"Damn, guys! This is insane!" Jon exclaimed, impression dusting his pretty face.

"Yeah, the owner designed this; it's pretty fuckin' cool," I said before stepping aside to let Jon and Mikey go in.

The second Jon held my hips to help me down the ladder I nearly had a full-blown panic attack due to how completely and helplessly flustered I was by this man. Even one tiny touch can send me spiraling into insanity. His grip on my hips was so tight, but not to the point where it hurt, but to an extent when I felt protected.

"Oooooh Y/N's blushing!!!" Mikey jeered like a teenage girl.

"Pr-probably because I almost just got murked." I lied, a slight stutter and a hint of nervousness in my voice.

Mikey scoffed and led us down the dim tunnel to the venue. My mind raced, wondering if Jon noticed my mannerism and thought I didn't like him touching me. Once we reached the entrance to the venue Mikey knocked on the door. Jon looked a little distraught. With one overreaching thought came another, then another, and so goddamn forth.

I acted so fucking nervous around him before he left, does he think I hate him, or does he hate me now? Does he even-…No. He was happy to see me, but why is he-

"Hey, Mike, who's this zesty Raggedy Ann lookin-"

"He's a friend of Y/N's, calm the fuck down." Mikey interrupted the bouncer, stepping forward slightly.

The bouncer, Jim, pursed his lips and lowered his eyes to me with dangerous intentions.

"He a friend or what?"

Clearing my throat, I said calmly,

"Yes, he's with us, I promise."

Jim's nostrils flared, and he pursed his lips again.

"Come in."

We hurried inside, avoiding Jim's death glare. The place was just as I remembered; dimly lit, with a touch of gray in everything, a putrid odor of meth and piss in one particular spot, but the rest smelled like sandalwood and cigarettes.

"Wanna go to the bar?" I asked Jon.

Jon obliged, and we slinked to the bar while Mikey trailed off toward a leopard-print-clad chick. We awkwardly sat down, and I waved to the bartender.

"Oh hey, Y/N! Who's this guy?" The bartender, Sid, asked me.

"Oh I'm Jonathan; I'm Y/N's old friend," Jon said.

"Always nice to see newcomers who aren't pieces of shit! Anything you want, Jonny Boy?"

Jon chuckled.

"Just a rum and coke, please."

"Oh, Y/N, you want that too?"

"Oh yeah, thanks, man," I replied awkwardly.

Sid walked off, leaving Jon and me alone. I nervously shifted slightly in my chair before asking,

"So, uh…you're in a band now, huh? That's pretty cool!" I said, screaming at myself not to sound so awkward.

"Oh yeah I started Korn last year after Sexart broke up, and we're doing pretty great!"

"Oh, I saw you guys in concert, all of you are just so talented, I swear to god."

"Wait, what? Why didn't you come to say hi?"

My head hurt with negative anticipation.

"I…I didn't wanna intrude on anything or piss off security…"

Fuck.

I swear I nearly burst into tears when Jon looked slightly hurt. I felt god awful, but my misspeaking was hard to take back.

"I-I mean, I really wanted to, but-"

"Y/N, this whole 'band' thing hasn't made me into some posh asshole! You can come up and say hi to me after shows! There isn't even that much security!"

I froze, trying not to cry as I watched my world crumble around me. I hurt someone I loved more than anything else to ever exist like an incompetent piece of garbage. I couldn't speak, or else I would start crying.

Okay, why is Jon so pissed off and why am I such a FUCKING IDIOT?!

Jon scoffed and turned back away from me, taking his rum and coke from Sid, who slid a second one over to me.

"Whoa, whoa Y/N! Are you alright?" Sid noticed me trying with all my strength to hold back tears.

"I-……I'm okay…" I choked out, my voice cracking.

"No you're not Y/N, what's wrong?"

I needed to lie somehow.

"M…My pet cat needs to get surgery, and I'm just-"

I burst into loud sobs in front of Jon, even though I didn't have a cat. Sid rubbed my back and said,

"Aw, Y/N, the vets here are great, okay? Your cat's gonna be fine, promise."

I looked up at Sid, tears still streaming down my red face.

"Here, Y/N, just drink the worries away, and you and your cat will be alright…"

I nodded, taking a sip of my rum and coke and slipping Sid five dollars.

"Th…Thanks…"

Once Sid left, I turned back to Jonathan, who was rubbing his temples and running his fingers through his dreads.

I hate myself so much…

Jon turned back to me, a troubled look on his face.

"Y/N, please look at me."

Fuck.

Reluctantly, I slowly turned to face him, my face red and wet with tears and snot. Jon knit his brow and lowered his head when he saw what he did.

"I…I'm so sorry, Y/N…I just…This whole 'fame' thing, it just…"

Jon set his hands on my knees.

"*sniff* It's really okay, Jon. You don't need to apologize."

Jon clasped his hands around my face, cupping and caressing it.

"Y/N, look at yourself! Of course I need to apologize! I hurt my best friend!"

"Jon, it's *sniff* okay, I know what fame can do to someone…" I sniffled, wiping my tears.

Jon sighed, taking his hands off my face and sipping his drink.

"Yeah… it's been god-awful, but that doesn't mean I just get to bitch at everyone." Jon said, setting his drink down.

"I know… But I'll let you bitch at me just this once." I said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Jon snickered, turning back to me.

"You should drink that before it gets warm."

I nodded and took a giant sip, feeling the sting of alcohol rush into my sinuses, starting to cleanse them of horrible thoughts. Jon cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I have security on my ass 24/7, I can't fucking go anywhere without being bombarded by fuckin' fans, I got fuckin' bruises from being tossed around during concerts, and I just-…"

Jon trailed off and ran his fingers through his hair, his brow knitting again in frustration.

"I needa stop drinking, but nobody likes me when I'm sober…"

My heart dropped into my shoes.

This can't be happening…He deserves so much better…I need to get him out of this…

I scooched over to Jon and wrapped him in a big bear hug, cradling his head to my breast while he clenched his arms around my waist for dear life. Even though I hated seeing him like this, I loved holding him so much. The side of his face resting against my chest while he held my waist flooded my stomach with butterflies.

His hair, oh my god…

Even though it was in dreadlocks, it was still soft to the touch, and it was so satisfying to scratch at his scalp, making him hum through sobs.

He's so adorable it hurts…

Jon looked up at me with red, glossy eyes.

"Jeez, it's like you never left…"

I smiled and nuzzled his head before taking another sip of my rum and coke. I was starting to loosen up.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't get ahold of you. I tried, I really did…" I whispered into his dreads.

Jon pulled away and held my hands.

"I know, so did I, but this whole fucking-…"

Jon trailed off, realizing he was repeating himself.

"Well, you have me now, and I have you," I said, trying to calm the mood again.

Jon turned back to me.

"I'm so glad I do…"

Over the next few hours, we continued laughing with each other through drinks, catching up and talking about what was happening within the past few years.

"Hehe…Yeah, I remember one time; Head got so fucked up on stage he pulled down his pants and humped his guitar…"

"Whoa, what the hell? Did you guys get banned or something?"

Jon laughed.

"Oh no, no; it was a chill venue…The guys were mad though."

I finished my rum and coke, setting the glass down, my nerves relaxed.

"Y-You guys were so fucking good in concert, like…I was afraid you were having a seizure or something, just turns out you're really fucking talented…"

"Nah, we're alright; we're just really *chuckle*, we're just really fucked up in the head, that's all…" Jon laughed, flashing his pretty smile yet again.

We continued laughing and talking until the dancefloor lit up in the center of the venue. All of a sudden, "Loser" started playing.

"Oh my GOD, I love this song…" I said, turning around to get ready to leave.

"Oh man, me too…You wanna dance?" Jon asked, hopping off the stool and extending his hand for me to take it.

I happily obliged, taking Jon's sweet hand and traveling smoothly with him to the dancefloor. The song started with us swaying next to each other, grooving to the beat, but when the beat dropped, Jon and I threw our heads forward and started headbanging, swaying around like headless chickens. But then again, so was everyone else.

"SOYYYYYYYYYY UN PERDEDORRRRRRRRRRR IM A LOSER BABYYYYYYYY SO WHY DON’T YOU KILL MEEEEE…."

"GET CRAZY WITH THE CHEEZ WHIZZ!!!"

Jon and I nearly screamed the lyrics while getting fucked up on straight dopamine.

It feels so good to have this much fun without getting blackout drunk…"

We danced through "Fucking Hostile," "Pull the Plug," "Enjoy the Silence," and god-knows-what-else, and spun ourselves silly. During "Total Eclipse of the Heart," Jon motioned for me to come into his arms. Of course, I obliged, blushing profusely, and he took me into his arms, swaying me side to side with my arms around his torso and his on my upper back.

He's so pretty up close…

His vantablack eyes twinkled with the dim lights, as did his soft features.

Right here is the most kissable motherfucker alive.

Without thinking, I tightened my arms around Jon and laid my head on his chest. He was taken aback at first when he suddenly loosened his grip but held me tighter as if he was trying to keep me as his. I laid my head on his chest and listened to Jon's heartbeat, which ran faster than Bullet Bill on speedball and steroids.

Am I doing anything wrong, or does he want me too?

Suddenly, I heard a loud crash and glass shatter everywhere.

"Get the fuck out now!"

I swiveled around to see Joe and Monica, both mutilated to unrecognition. Monica had jumped behind the bar counter and knocked over all the alcohol on the shelves, and Joe stood beside her, holding a lighter. Monica saw Jon and I and lunged at us.

"Jesus!"

Monica smacked me down before swinging at me with floppy fists, clocking me square in the nose. Jon tried to help me, but Joe tackled him, socking him in the stomach. I threw Monica off me and tried to kick Joe off of Jon, crying out for backup.

"Hey! Someone help us!"

As soon as those words left my lips, a stampede of beefy men and angry intoxicated girls came to our aid. Joe got knocked down, instantly thrown against the wall and socked in the face hard. I could only watch in awe as Joe, a man I couldn't even look in the eye, was effortlessly shredded to pieces.

"You heretics!"

Those words were Joe's last words before a guy grabbed a spoon and started digging out Joe's eyeballs, turning his swears into breathy screams and sobs. Watching the scene unfold, I prompted myself to grab another old spoon and lunge at Monica, who was sitting on the floor screaming at the men to stop, not doing shit about her dying husband. I tackled her to the floor and took a broken bottle, contorting her squirming body before ripping off her shirt and piercing the flesh of her thin abdomen, a pocket of thick blood bursting from the laceration and making her vocal chords raspy with how much she screamed. A random guy pinning her down with me, I got up, got a running head start, and plummeted onto her face, the heels of my boots bursting her eyeballs and nose with red, slimy fluid.

"Y/N please just stop! This won't bring back the little pussy, Chris, you called a brother!"

She did not…

Monica had the nerve to put the name of my brother she drove to suicide into her mouth. She tormented him relentlessly, telling him nobody loved him, pretending to kill his imaginary friends, and used his autism to make him do whatever she wanted, including sexual favors.

C'mon Christopher, be a man and fuck me! You don't want Whizzy to be sad, do you? He would just LOVE to see your porn star dick before he DIES OF CANCER!! Now come on, you little fa-

The memories flooded back to me of Monica's abuse towards Chris and how I was too young to fight back against her. I didn't understand that he didn't want it.

And now Chris's bones are still hanging in his bedroom…

With tears pricking at my eyes I got up, allowing Monica to hobble to her feet, a smirk teasing at her face.

Now's my chance to show Chris I love him…

Stepping up closer to Monica, my nostrils flared slightly.

"I hate you."

Monica scoffed.

"Oh really? You weren't saying that when I bought you pizza after your brother ate my pussy like he was starving! I just know he liked it when I used a little…FORCE on him, is all!"

"Chris wanted you dead."

Monica cackled, slapping her thigh before getting all up in my face.

"Then why was he so eager to fuck me and give me ALL his money when I was the only one that could save his little imaginary friend? That motherfucker needed me!"

Monica stepped closer to me.

"And all you and Chris could say was 'we love you Monica!'"

At that moment, I lost all means of composure, adrenaline shooting through my veins and my eyes red and wide as saucers. My blood was searing through my skin; it needed to dart my hands at Monica.

She's gonna regret even LOOKING at Chris.

Using one-hundred percent of my strength effortlessly, I seized Monica by the throat and slammed her down WWE-style to the floor. One of the guys pinning her down, I grabbed my spoon.

"No! Please!"

I cackled, followed by a harsh smack to her face.

"You were talking so much shit just a minute ago, and now you're crying like a little FUCKING BITCH for me to stop?"

Monica loved using that line with Chris.

"I'm sorry!" Monica cried, trying to slap my hands away.

I got up and stomped on her throat.

"Bullshit!"

I got back down and positioned my spoon at Monica's left eye.

"Chris would be so fuckin' happy to see this…"

I spread apart Monica's cyan-pigmented eyelids and started wedging the rusty spoon into her cornea, earning another strained scream from her.

"Y-You don't have to do this!" Monica tried pushing me away again.

The guy holding her down landed a violent smack to her face.

"Shut up, bitch."

I shot him a friendly smile through all my anger before slowly digging my spoon into Monica's eye again.

"Hey y'all, come watch this!"

The people who killed came and watched me torture Monica.

"Fuuuck, this is gonna be so good…"

I jabbed my spoon behind her eye, more blood seeping into the well of the spoon. At that point, Monica couldn't even scream anymore; all I heard was the attendees cheering. Deep red hues pricked and teased into the whites of her eyes while I pushed the spoon deeper, her eyeball emerging from her socket and out from under her decorated eyelids. I yanked the spoon, dislodging her eye and earning loud cheers. I stood up on top of Monica's retching body.

"Alright, who wants to keep the eyeball?"

Almost everyone raised their hands excitedly.

"Alright, let's see here…"

I chose a short girl in the back because she and I both liked Cannibal Corpse.

"You, in the Cannibal Corpse shirt! Catch!"

The girl squealed with joy as I ripped the nerve and threw her the bloody eyeball. I dug out the other eye and threw it to a big guy wearing no shirt and covered in tattoos, to which he responded by laughing,

"You crazy as shit!"

He and a group of guys came up to Monica and I.

"May we?"

"Sure!"

I stepped back and watched the scene unfold, my body trembling with sheer dopamine. One guy had picked her up by the wrists with ONE hand and hung her from a ceiling beam like a piñata. I grabbed a half-drank Heineken left on the floor and looked for Jon when the men had their ways with Monica, violating her in every manner, from sexually to emotionally, to straight-up physically.

"Yeah, take this fucking knife in your saggy ass, you brother-fucking cow!"

"Tsk…making my bro fuck your fishy cunt when you can't even suck dick? What a fucking ingrate…"

"I bet you had your first time with your dad, you little pissy shit-whore slut!"

I took another sip of my beer, getting into the closet where the exit was.

I need to find Jon soon…

I was about to leave when I got called back to where the guys and Monica were.

"Yo! You in the closet! Come out here you crazy motherfucker!"

I opened the door to see every attendee, including Sid, forming an aisle leading me to Monica's now naked and mutilated body. She was barely holding onto life.

"Will you do the honors?" One of the men asked, holding out a dull, rusty box cutter.

I happily obliged, approaching Monica while drawing the box cutter.

"Monica…"

All she could do was cough up semen and blood.

"You may think you're hot shit and that all the poor men you manipulated are groveling at your feet…"

I stepped closer.

"But all you are is a fucking disease that they just happened to catch."

I angrily drew the blade to her throat.

"…and I'm the cure."

I jabbed the blade deep into Monica's jugular vein and ripped it through pale flesh all the way to the other side, almost completing a 360. The bar attendees cheered while they watched Monica choke and bleed pathetically down her face. I dropped the boxcutter like a microphone and stood in the crowd to watch Monica die, finishing my beer. I earned pats on the back and cheers of my name.

"Damn bro, you fucked her up!"

"MAD respect, dawg."

Turns out I wasn't the only one Monica messed with.

I want to see Jon.

Nudging my way through the crowd, I exited the bar through the closet. Once I reached the snowy surface, I saw Jon sitting in the alleyway where we used to hang out.

"Jon!"

He turned to me, flashing his pretty smile.

"Hi Y/N!"

I hurried over to him and sat down next to him.

"Why'd you leave?"

Jon sighed, his smile fading slightly.

"It was just…too much."

I immediately went to comfort him. I hated seeing Jon like this.

"Oh no I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I didn't look for you or fu-"

Jon put a finger to my lips.

"It's okay, Y/N! You need to stop apologizing so damn much…"

Jon chuckled, putting his arm around me. I laid my head against his shoulder and looked up at the snow. It was strangely beautiful to me.

"Besides, it wasn't even your fault! That bitch had it coming." Jon said, snuggling into me a little more.

I chuckled.

"Couldn't've said it better myself…"

I yawned, and without thinking, I wrapped my arms around Jon and buried my face in his neck. He pulled away slightly, taken aback and flushed.

Fuck!

I pulled away as well, scrambling to give Jon space.

"Shit, I'm sorry…"

Jon immediately scrambled back to me.

"Oh no, no, no, no I didn’t-…I mean I-…I liked it!"

My heart jumped out of my throat and into his hands.

"Oh…uh..."

Y/N, you idiot…

Jon broke the awkward silence by asking,

"Y/N, I'm just gonna say this straight up because I need to know; Do you love me?"

I froze, shellshocked by what I heard. Without holding back, I drunkenly blurted,

"Yes, Jonathan! I love you so much. I can't even spend a living minute without thinking about you! You're the only thing giving me hope in life, and I hope I did too with yours. You know why? Because I fucking love you! I would go through a fate worse than hell for you! I would give up everything in my life just to see your…BEAUTIFUL smile! Every night I hug my pillow and pretend it's you, and it's the only way I can sleep! I would do anything for you! I would buy you anything and everything I can't afford! I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU!"

Jon's face got burnt to a crisp. He never given that kind of dedication from anyone other than his mother.

"Y/N, I…" Jon stuttered, shifting in his place.

I scooched back, my eyes burning with tears.

I just ruined my relationship with him, like I ALWAYS FUCKING DO! I ruin everything!

"I'm really sorry, Jon. I'll leave you alone."

Before I could leave, Jon instantly grabbed me and pulled my face an inch from his, holding it in deep devotion.

"I love you too, Y/N."

He pulled me in and connected his soft lips to mine.

HOLY FUCK, WHAT?

My stomach jumped out of my anus, and my head raced.

Is it getting hot out here, in this snowy weather?

I hugged around his upper back and pulled myself in closer to Jon, deepening the kiss. He hummed, moving one of his hands to the back of my head, taking off my hat before scratching and massaging my scalp.

He's so perfect…

I moved my hand up to his head, letting go of all my nerves completely. I buried my fingers in his dreads and caressed his soft cheek with my thumb. Jon wrapped his legs around me to get closer, more blush spreading across my cheeks. I buried myself into him, wrapping my jacket inside his so there would be no space between us. Jon broke the kiss, still holding me in the cuddly position.

"You're a good kisser, Y/N."

I smiled, nuzzling his cute nose.

"So are you, Jonathan Howsmon Davis."

Jon giggled and pulled me in closer with his legs, shifting me over so my back was against the brick wall.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I always have…"

I pecked his lips.

"I love you more."

Jon kissed me again, this time a little more passionate, turning the kiss into a sweet makeout session.

I feel so safe under him…

Jon pulled away.

"You look so flustered, isn't this what you wanted?"

I stammered,

"Oh no, no, I want this, it's just…"

Jon cocked his head to the side.

"You're so fuckin pretty, it hurts." I finished my sentence, pulling him in for a harder kiss.

Jon kissed me back, grunting as he shifted more onto me, pinning me against the brick wall. He squished my face into his with his hands, starting to eat at my lips a little.

I need him so bad…

I moved my hands to his hair and face when he moved his to the small of my back, enveloping me into him and allowing me to bring him closer. His skin was softer than anything ever felt under my calloused fingertips. His hair was so long and frizzy; I could hold onto it for hours. EVERYTHING about this man was absolutely perfect in every way.

"I've been wanting this for so long…" I breathed in between kisses, lost in his pretty face up close.

Jon smiled again, nuzzling into me and pecking my red cheek.

"Me too."

We continued to lazily make out, snuggled in each other's jackets and making up for all the missed time we could have spent together. I felt like I could disappear into his arms and snuggle him forever. Jon's fuzzy hair surrounded my face while he straddled my lap and held my head sweetly. Our noses and eyelashes fluttered on each other under large snowflakes, more slow songs playing in the background. When we weren't kissing and nuzzling, we just gazed into each other's pretty eyes for a few seconds before kissing again.

He's so soft…

Jon pulled an unopened beer from his jacket pocket and cracked it open against the wall. He took a sip before offering me the bottle, to which I obliged to him feeding me like that. From then on, gentle beer kisses and sweet nothings got shared between us. As we finished the bottle, there was more tipsy shifting and growing lustful tension, both of us wanting more than just cuddles.

"My pretty baby…" Jon murmured before tilting my head backwards and planting sweet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck, making me gasp and bite my lip.

When Jon said those words and kissed my neck, my heart rate went from zero to infinity. Kissing Jon was every nightly desire come true; my fantasies had become realities. I felt my nether regions tingle in my thick, baggy jeans. I ran my fingers up and down his hot body under his jacket, raking my fingernails over his sensitive spots, making him whimper against my neck.

Fuck, his noises are so hot…

I could feel Jon's erection poking at my lower tummy as he started shifting on my lap.

He's so desperate, it's so cute…

Jon pulled away, crashing his lips back into mine while gripping the sides of my face again. My fingers trailed down to his waist, feeling all over his hot back.

"I want you bad, Y/N…" Jon husked between kisses, biting and tugging my bottom lip.

I slid my cold fingers under his shirt, making him yelp.

"I want you more, Jon…"

I latched my mouth onto his neck, feeling up his sides and hairy chest.

Now I'm in charge…

I snaked my hands down to his hips, dangerously close to his crotch.

"Oh fuck, Y/N, please…"

Jon was already at my mercy, begging me to touch him. I continued teasing around his throbbing cock, licking and sucking hickeys all over his neck. He was a moaning mess on my lap, like a little slut in heat. I snickered against his neck.

"You want me to touch you, baby?"

Jon buried his face in the crook of my neck and nodded frantically. I removed my hands from him and whispered in his ear,

"Use your words…"

Jon thrust hard into my hand and begged,

"Please, Y/N…make me cum all over your hand…or mouth…or pussy, I don't fucking care which…"

I got up, helping a whining Jonathan up with me.

"Let's go somewhere a bit more private…"

Jon followed me around the front of the building to my truck. He was practically shaking from my hands, making me shiver with anticipation at how he would take revenge on me later. I opened the back of my truck and turned on my lantern next to an old mattress.

"Shall we?" I asked, hopping inside.

Jon scrambled into the back of my truck, desperate to have my hands on him.

"Fuck yes…"

I stood up and closed the opening.

"Unzip your pants, babe."

Jon unbuckled his belt and pulled down his black khakis just past his ass, his erect cock stretching the fabric of his red boxers. He laid down, ready for me.

"C'mere…"

I slowly crept towards Jon, like a predator catching its prey, then I pounced on top of him, slamming my hips down onto his member.

"Oh fuck!"

Jon threw his head back and moaned helplessly, bucking his hips into my beaver. I bit my lip, holding my hips down for Jon to grind against, feeling powerful on top of him. I quietly whimpered when his bulge rubbed against my clit.

"You're so fucking hot…I need to go down on you…" I groaned, lifting up Jon's shirt and trailing hungry kisses down his hairy torso, him squealing when I nibbled at his nipple.

When I reached Jon's crotch area, it was warm and throbbing for me, a strangely comforting and cuddly feeling, even though it was a sexual situation. Jon whined when I cupped his clothed nuts and traced my tongue along his trapped length, placing kisses on his swollen tip through the elastic fabric. I teasingly nuzzled Jon's tip with my nose and kissed down his shaft to his balls, earning cute twitches from his cock. I slowly licked up between his nads and trailing lightly at the base of his cock with my fingers.

He's so cute, it hurts…

I turned my head to the side and put his shaft in my mouth corn-on-the-cob-style. I moved up and down, my tongue tracing the bulging muscle on the front.

"Oh, Y/N…" Jon keened, gripping my hair and humping into my face desperately.

I gripped Jon's erection and started slowly stroking him through his boxers, making his pretty little head fall back and making whimpers tumble from his cute lips. Continuing the teasing with my mouth while I stroked him, I cooed,

"You're so cute when you're all flustered like that…"

Finally gathering up enough strength to say something clearly, he replied with,

"Just imagine what you'll be like later…"

Feeling challenged, I yanked down Jon's underwear and sucked his tip hard, making him gasp and turning his cocky words into loud moans. Snickering at his duality, I slowed down again, sliding my wet tongue all over his tip sweetly while looking up into the prettiest eyes to ever exist. In between tingly licks, I pressed loving, gentle kisses to Jon's tip, precum sticking to my lips. When Jon bucked his hips into my face and groaned, I decided to stop teasing. I started pumping his wet shaft at a medium pace and sucking hard, twisting my neck different ways and putting my tongue on the bottom of his dick while I sucked his soul out, earning the sexiest moans and whimpers any ears could experience. Jon's grip on my hair pushed me down to deepthroat him, making me grip onto his feminine thighs for extra endurance.

"Oh my god, Y/N, you're so good at that…Oh shit!"

Jon yelped when I spread his legs out and started going faster, squeezing his nuts lightly. The saliva dripping from my occupied tongue trailed into the hand that squeezed Jon, lubing up his sensitive areas and making him lose his damn mind down my throat. Jon desperately fucked my face, rambling curses and praises while nearly ripping out my hair. I flicked my tongue wherever it could and went deeper, fitting Jon's whole shaft down my throat and increasing suction at the back of my throat.

"You're gonna make me bust twelve nuts at once, fuck…"

Already soaking wet, I ground my clothed pussy into the heel of my boot, needy for friction while I continued blowing Jon hard for the next several moments; I lost track of time in a fit of desire. I looked up at Jon again while he was nearing his orgasm, earning the view of a pretty head tilted back all the way and a spotted neck above a dark green heavy jacket.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, good god, Y/N you're so…" Jon stammered, my wet, tight mouth driving him to insanity.

Once I started gagging, I pulled off and slobbered all over his cock, pumping his squelching cock with a vice-grip. Jon's pretty unit glistened in the lantern's light, all red, throbbing, and tingly. I dived back down and continued my attack, arching my ass up in the air and going all the way down, more precum leaking down my throat. My tongue explored him, tasting his desire for me.

"Oh god, oh my-oh shit!!"

Warm, salty, delicious ribbons of semen shot down my throat for each one of Jon's strained moans as he tugged on the roots of my hair, making me whimper a bit. He desperately fucked into my face, drunk on both beer and his need to cum. I took every drop down my throat, like I had always fantasized. Once Jon was done, he shakily leaned forward and caressed my raised ass.

"That was the best…fucking head…I've ever gotten…even compared to my own hand…" He panted, giving my butt cheek a squeeze.

I hummed and licked the remaining cum up his shaft teasingly, planting more sweet kisses to the tip, making him twitch and groan.

"Fuckin' tease…" Jon growled, smacking my ass.

I gasped and whimpered on his cock, not used to him being all dominant like that. My time was over.

"C'mere…" Jon said again, trailing his hand up my back.

I sat up and straddled his lap, looking down at his cute face and caressing it.

"Hi…" I giggled tipsily.

"Hey…" Jon replied before suddenly whirling me around, throwing me down under him with my back hitting the thin mattress.

I could feel my panties overflowing as my dominant demeanor dropped. Jon was in control now.

"We might wanna go home for what I'm about to do…" He breathed, his teeth scraping against the shell of my ear.

I trembled underneath Jon, feeling up his body as I nodded, both of us leaving the truck. We took a tense bus ride to my apartment, and once we arrived, we ran out, throwing the driver a dollar. Once the bus was gone, Jon lunged at my lips, grabbing me by the face and pulling me into him. I hugged around his waist and raked my nails up his back again, groping and scratching wherever I could reach. Jon pushed me to the stairs, traveling with me on his lips the whole way up to my apartment.

"Fuck…"

I fumbled with my keys to find the right one, Jon leering behind me impatiently, needing to fuck my brains out. Once I found the key and unlocked the door, Jon grabbed me and pinned me up against the wall, slamming the door behind him with his foot. He crashed his lips into mine, gripping my face hard enough to break my jaw while I shifted into him as much as possible, raking my fingers under his shirt after he took off his jacket. I quickly put down my purse before pulling into Jon harder.

"Mmh-.…" Jon moaned into my mouth at the mercy of my cold fingers.

Jon gripped my hair, and his tongue slithered between my teeth into my mouth, challenging my tongue to a battle for dominance (his obviously won).

I've always wanted his sexy body pressed up against mine…

Still making out, Jon led me to my pullout couch bed I slept on and pushed me down onto it, crawling on top of me. After giving me one last peck, he removed his shirt and undid his belt, throwing both on the floor. He came back down and started kissing my neck again, sucking and harshly biting my throat while pulling my hair, drawing an erotic whimper between my lips. Jon did his signature chuckle against my neck.

"Told you…"

I wrapped my legs around Jon's waist and humped into his crotch, making him groan against my neck.

"So…so…desperate…"

He took off my jacket and shirt, throwing it with his clothes.

"So pretty…"

Pale hands and long fingers immediately latched to my breasts, squeezing the plump flesh through my bra in an insane and hungry manner, making me dizzy with arousal. I was helpless under Jonathan, so pathetic I couldn't even speak. All I could do was whine and whimper into his mouth as we ate each other's lips hungrily.

"Please…Please, Jon, let's fuck…" I keened, my face hot and flushed a deep red.

Jon bit his lip, wanting nothing more than to pound me open.

"…I'm gonna need to prep you first…"

Yanking off my bra, Jon lunged at my tits, not caring what they looked like enough to look at them first. He buried his face between them, enjoying my warm skin against the sides of his face and leaving purple hickeys. My breath hitched in my throat, stopped by his demanding mouth. I gasped when Jon's tongue glided to my nipple and started sliding around comfortably, the tiny tingles in my chest and cunt making me whimper more. I helplessly ran my fingers through his dreads roughly while he gently attacked my tits, making him hum at the feeling and crack a smirk against my nip. More hickeys were sucked and bitten onto my chest and neck, making sure to leave no bald spots. Jon pulled back to admire the number he did on my chest, now covered in deep purple and red blotches.

I love his biting love language…

While he was up, I took the ample time to admire how pretty Jonathan is, running my fingers around his thin waist, his soft chest and tummy, his body hair that was strangely comforting, like every other part of him.

He's nothing short of an angel…

Completely smitten, I sat up under Jon and started kissing his chest, feeling his warm skin under my lips while still feeling up his body. I tugged down his pants a little, signaling them to come off. He obliged and pulled them off, only wearing red boxers bearing a throbbing erection before flashing a sexy smirk and pushing me back down.

"Be patient, Y/N…"

Jon nuzzled between my ribs before trailing kisses down my tummy, stopping at my pelvis, the anticipation of my wet pussy on his lips making me shiver. He undid my belt and pulled down my pants, throwing them onto the pile on the floor. When I looked down, I swear Jon was drooling when he saw my panty-clad core.

What a great day to wear gray panties…

Jon could see every ounce of wetness caused by him for himself; he could see, feel, and taste what he did.

"Oh my god…" Jon groaned before tearing off my panties hungrily, needing my pussy like oxygen.

He took a second to look at his midnight snack, a string of drool dripping onto my throbbing clit, making me bite my lip. Jon dived down to nip at my inner thighs, trying with all his being not to immediately start eating me out. I whined, and my pussy twitched, needing Jon's mouth. Unable to contain himself, he swiftly attached his mouth to my soaking cunt, nudging his mouth between my red, puffy folds and tasting my wetness.

"Mmh…you taste…so good…"

Jon slowly started licking up and down with his long tongue, making me gasp every time his tongue flicked against my clit. He snickered against me when he heard my little noises, proud of his dizzying tongue skills. My poor cunny was engulfed between Jon's pretty lips as he suckled on my clit, circling it with his tongue.

"Ah…Jon…that feels so-…good……" I whimpered and moaned helplessly, pushing back the dreads in his angelic face.

Moving his head side to side, Jon snaked his long fingers to tease around my entrance before easing two into it. Tingly sensations shot up and down my spine, producing more wetness to coat Jon's mouth and chin.

"Oh god….tastes so fucking good….." Jon huffed into my messy cunny, pumping his fingers faster and slurping my whole pussy hungrily.

I could feel the knot in my tummy start to tighten to the point of unraveling while Jon pushed his mouth deeper, paying the most attention to my clit.

"Oh my god, Jon….please don't stop….I'm gonna cum…." I whined, followed by more pathetic inaudible moaning.

Jon's actions became desperate, him moaning into my pussy while he devoured me senseless and punched my g-spot swiftly.

"Ah, fuck!" I squealed, my pussy pulsating as I released in Jon's pretty mouth, my back arching almost ninety degrees and my pussy magnetically attached to Jon's mouth.

He moaned relentlessly and drank up all my juices, swallowing me whole and trying to get more like he was starving. With a loud pop, Jon released my quivering pussy from his mouth, crawling back up to my eye-level with a cum-coated grin.

"How was that?"

My face red, I replied shakily,

"Fucking crazy…"

I pulled him back down to kiss me, tasting my salty cum on his lips.

"Ew…" I giggled, nuzzling his cute nose.

Jon snickered and pecked my lips again.

"Yum."

I was oblivious to the party upstairs until "Closer" started playing right as Jon crawled back up to me.

Shit's going down…

I fired a Kubrick stare at Jon and started teasing his erect cock with my fingers again while taking off his boxers, a pretty cock springing out, ready to fuck.

"Oh god, Y/N…"

Jon violently shoved my legs over his shoulders, throwing me upside down and angling me so he could pile-drive me insane. Leering down at me, he slapped his tip on my wet entrance, triggering a quiet moan and a lip bite in both of us.

~~you let me violate you~~

Jon slowly pushed himself inside me, his teeth gritting when he hit contact with my tight insides.

"Shit…" I moaned, my eyes rolling back in my head while I squeezed his unit hard.

With that, Jon started moving in in and out slowly, leaning forward a bit to get closer to me. I could feel his cock breaking my pussy in, claiming it as its new home.

~~I broke apart my insides…~~

"You good?" Jon breathed, subdued by my vice grip.

I nodded, needing him to go faster. He leaned forward more to hold himself up on my shoulders at a dizzying angle that could have anyone screaming in no time. Jon changed his pace from slow to medium, both of us choking out heated whimpers and moans. It was like our genitals were becoming inseparable friends, like a magnetic field inside me.

The view is so beautiful…

Jon smeared his face with desperation, his chest hair, eyes, and forehead shining with sweat in my dimly-lit apartment, tints of dark orange and yellow saturating him into the dark, raggedy, peeling room. I felt up his skinny waist, him fitting easily in my hands while I trailed them all over his back and torso.

"Ahh…."

Jon's movements turned into thrusts as he held onto my leg for leverage, kissing it between loud moans.

I swear, his moans could kill god…they're so hot, holy fucking Christ…

"oh-Oh god, Jon, fuck!…." I cried when Jon snapped his hips into my g-spot.

~~help me get away from myself…~~

~~I wanna fuck you like an animal…~~

I cried out when Jon slammed himself forward to clasp his hand around my throat and pummel my g-spot repeatedly, groaning and pussydrunk.

"I'm using…this-oh fuck!- this pretty pussy tonight…"

With an erotic moan, I thrusted back into him and did a Kegel, causing a yelp to jump from Jon's chest before he fell down to me.

"Do that again…"

I squeezed another cock-crushing Kegel around Jon's throbbing cock, earning the hottest whimper known to this earth right in my ear.

"…so good to me…"

His groans becoming carnal, and dangerous, Jon gripped the roots of my hair and starting pounding me into oblivion, my g-spot crying from all the battery. It felt like we fused together, like a loud, sweaty, horny creature whimpering, moaning, and producing every bodily fluid possible.

~~you can have my everything…~~

I hooked my arms under Jon's lean shoulders, pulling his chest to mine and squishing my boobs under his.

Empty space isn't allowed between us…

Still gripping my hair, Jon scooched up, buried his face in the top of my head, and rammed into me harder, both of us groaning and shaking at the feeling of each other.

"Oh my god, Y/N…so….so…tight…..shit!"

I violently raked my nails down Jon's back, sending each other straight to paradise and desperate for more. Jon's growls turned into loud whimpers, pleas, and cries as he struck my g-spot even faster at the mercy of my fingernails.

"You feel s-so good, Jon…..I've b-been wanting th-this for so long…." I finally managed to choke out through erotic noises.

Jon crashed his lips into mine, gripping my throat and jaw with brute force and sloppily pounding my cunt open.

"I have too…but I didn't-…know you'd be…this crazy…"

Jon reached his hand down to flick my clit, making me squeak and dig my nails harder. He groaned loudly, and his head fell to the crook of my neck.

~~my existence is flawed...~~

~~you get me closer to god…~~

Jon choked out various whimpers and loud, desperate moans into my ear, holding me down and pounding my gushing pussy open.

"Fuck, Jon…!" I yelped when he deepened his thrusts to the maximum and flicked my clit faster.

With a slutty groan, Jon bit down harshly on my neck, moaning on the marked skin,

"You're so fucking good….dirty slut…"

I hooked my legs around his hips and buried my face in his shoulder. Sounds of clapping, pornographic cries, and the painfully erotic song in the background seeped into my dim, filthy apartment. If I had not been horny, I would have cried tears of joy.

I dreamed about being with Jon for so long…It's just as amazing as I imagined…

I needed this pretty boy in my life and I finally have him…I love him so much…

I smothered kisses wherever I could reach on Jon's hot, sweaty skin, addicted to every part of him and never wanting to let go. He cried out when I bit down on his chest. Taking the hint, I bit another part of his chest and left a dark red hickey, my g-spot being destroyed in the process, distracting me and making me nearly fall back in a fit of slutty moaning.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm close…." Jon choked into my ear, followed by a harsh bite on my neck.

The dizzying feeling of nirvana crept into my tummy, my walls twitching on Jon's throbbing cock.

"Oh god, yes! Right there…" My back arched, and my head craned backwards into my pillow.

Thank god Livvie's out on a business trip…

"Fuck, Y/N!" Jon cried out, grabbing my hips and leaning backwards, exposing his decorated neck.

~~you are the reason I stay alive…~~

Jon's pretty eyes were fixated on my pussy gripping him, my thighs clapping at an inhumane speed against his.

"Oh god, I'm cumming!!"

When the song ended, Jon released strings of hot cum into me, quickly followed by a euphoric wave crashing over me and my pussy coming undone with my cum while I rubbed my clit. Jon's signature growls and whimpers trailed to my buried ears, causing my pussy to squeeze more cum out of Jon. Once we finished, Jon collapsed onto me, panting heavily into my neck. I heaved hot breaths under Jon and rubbed his clawed back, planting a sweet kiss on his shoulder. We laid there for a few minutes, trying to comprehend how happy we were with each other.

"…you good?..." I breathed, feeling the back of his neck.

Jon nodded.

"…yeah…what about you?...you doin' alright?"

Jon raised himself up and caressed my red cheek. I smiled up at him and said,

"Never better."

Leaning back on his knees, Jon reached out for my hands, taking them and pulling me to him, catching me in his arms.

"Round two?" Jon asked, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

I ran my hands up his thighs and obliged, desperate for more. Jon held my face sweetly and pecked my lips.

"Ride me?"

When I heard those words, I toppled on top of Jon and positioned his tip at my entrance.

"Anything for you, Jonathan Davis…"

Flashing a dangerous grin, Jon smacked my ass and grabbed my hips.

"Such an impatient little whore…"

With a bone-breaking grip on my hips, Jon started grinding my cunt against his shaft, his head falling back in tingly pleasure.

"So wet…feels so good…"

I instinctively tried to buck my hips forward, but Jon spanked me again, tightening his grip.

"My pace."

With that, I continued to let Jon get off on my pussy, biting my lip and moaning quietly at the feeling of his hard cock against my clit. When Jon let go of my hips a bit due to the pleasure, I leaned back and held myself up, my hands on his knees. I started shoving my pussy farther into Jon's shaft, making him groan and completely engulfing it with my folds, leaning my head back and splaying out my boobs. Shortly, Jon pushed me off and huffed,

"Alright, NOW you can ride me..."

I snickered, swinging a leg over his and wrapping my arm around his neck, using the other to position his tip at my entrance. As soon as the head entered me, my eyes rolled back into my head.

"Ohhh my fucking god…" I groaned, pushing myself deeper.

Jon craned his neck back and moaned loudly while my pussy swallowed his cock whole. I felt so powerfu, like I had him in the palm of my hand. I slowly started moving up and down, clenching his cock like Andre the Giant was squeezing it in a massive fist. In mere minutes, Jon changed from a cocky dickhead to a whimpering, pleading mess inside me.

"God, I love you…" Jon growled, weaving his fingers into my hair and grabbing my face before pulling my lips to his.

When I sank down, I moaned pathetically into his mouth, squeezing my thighs around his.

"I love you more… I pulled away and wrapped my arms around Jon's neck, angling my pussy better to fit his fat cock.

Resting my head against the wall behind Jon, I picked up the pace, arching my back for maximum ass-bouncing efficiency. My walls crushed his cock so hard it made his head spin like he was getting fucked senseless instead of me.

"Ahhh Y/N!!" Jon cried, so deep in euphoria that he was nearly overstimulated.

Feeling too powerful, I went faster, overstimulating him and making him squeal like a little girl. He twitched rapidly underneath me, gripping my hips so hard it nearly broke the thick skin down there. I kept going, enjoying seeing Jon writhe underneath me. Trying to get revenge, Jon started sucking my left nipple and flicking my clit hard, triggering a pornographic moan to fall from my lips and more wetness to gather on his cock.

His dick is so sensitive, it's so cute…

I looked at him while bouncing with a Kubrick stare through my shaggy, long black hair, resembling a sex gremlin with tits. This attribute turned him on to the maximum.

"Fuck, you're so hot, Y/N…I wanna fucking destroy you…"

Speeding up more until I hit my maximum speed and depth, I pounded myself onto Jon's dick hard, the moaning and clapping louder than ever in the heated room. I rode this man like I would never walk again, unable to get my hands or pussy off his hot body.

"Oh god! Right there!!"

"Shit, Y/N!"

Jon suddenly trapped me in a big bear hug and slammed up into me rapidly, needing to cum more than anything. I hugged my arms around his neck and squeaked and whimpered into his ear, making him growl various praises to me.

"Fuuuck, you're gonna be the death of me…"

"You're gonna make me cum again, baby…"

"You want me to make you squirt like a little dirty slut, huh?"

Jon rolled over on top again, positioned my ass was in the air, and pounded me fast and violent like a hungry animal catching its prey.

…the best way to die…

I could feel butterflies raving in my stomach as my climax neared its time. I could tell Jon was close too.

…shit, do I need to pee or am I gonna squirt?...

"Oh my god, Y/N I'm cumming!!"

"Me too, oh fuck!"

A harsh stream of wetness shot from me onto Jon's sexy pelvis, soaking his nuts and pubes.

"Oh my fucking god, Y/N…that was so hot…"

Jon flicked my clit with his fingers so fast it made my head spin while he kept fucking me, trying to cum again. The pleasure of him continuing with me after I came and him flicking my clit hard made me bury my face into the pillows and twitch violently, squeaking like a mouse and tears pricking at my eyes. I could hear him nearly screaming as he and I came close to our second orgasms.

"Oh god, oh my- fuck!!" Jon cried out as he fucked the living daylights out of my twitching cunny.

Once he finished, Jon lazily flipped me around and gently laid beside me. When I saw him, his eyes glistened, and he was panting. I turned on my side to face him and wrapped my arms and legs around him like a koala, burying my face in his shoulder.

"Awww." Jon beamed, turning to face me and wrapping me in his comfy arms.

I snuggled up into his chest, happier than ever before.

…I finally have him all to myself…

Jon kissed my head repeatedly, just as happy as I was. We lay there panting for a few minutes before Jon said,

"…glad I could get that off my chest…"

I hugged him tighter.

"…me too, honey bun…"

He chuckled and nuzzled my hair.

"…are you sleepy?..."

"…not really…just relaxed…" I replied, my eyes slowly fluttering.

Jon took a thick strand of my hair into his mouth.

"…i'm hungry…wanna order pizza and watch movies?..."

My stomach growled right as he said that. I hadn't eaten dinner yet and it was almost midnight.

"…mmh…yes please…"

Jon sat up groggily, bringing me up with him. He was strong despite his skinny frame. My head fell on his shoulder, still hugging him. He quietly laughed.

"Babyyy, I need to get the phone…"

I sighed, not wanting to let go.

"…ok, but i'm coming with you…"

Jon chuckled,

"Fiiine…"

Jon struggled to get up with my arms around him, but he finally managed to do so, butt-naked and dizzyingly happy. I shuffled with him to the telephone, hugging him from behind around his skinny waist.

"What kind do you want?"

"…pepperoni and onion…"

"Me too."

Jon dialed Tony's Pizzeria lazily, resting his tired head against the wall.

"Yeah, hi. One large pepperoni and onion pizza please…yeah thanks, see you…"

Jon hung up, turning around to give me a big bear hug.

"I love you."

I nuzzled into his chest.

"I love you more, Jonathan…"

Jon picked me up, straining a bit.

"Lies."

I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him.

"Truths."

Jon carried me back to the bed and laid me down, crawling onto me. He kissed my cheeks sweetly.

"Yeah, well I love you just as much…"

Before I could protest, Jon kissed my lips.

"You better not say shit…"

I laughed, pulling him into me. He giggled against my neck, pecking it softly.

"Okay, fine…you win…"

Jon laughed evilly and laid beside me, pulling me into his chest and stroking my hair. I koala-hugged him again, squishing my cheek against his chest.

…he's all mine now…he's my boyfriend…or at least he's acting like it…

I couldn't believe it; the boy I had loved since I was a freshman in high school was holding me tight in my bed, squeezing me and kissing me because he loved me.

He loves me…?

Even though Jon told me he loved me and fucked the dogshit out of me, I couldn't convince myself that he, let alone anyone, liked or loved me; I hated myself so much. In the time spent in silence cuddling, I had time to think.

I hate thinking so much.

I felt stinging tears well in my eyes.

…he's too good for me…he's out of my league…i'm such a piece of shit…

Jon noticed my sniffling and immediately sat up, pulling me into another hug.

"Oh god, baby…what's wrong?"

Jon pulled away and held my face, wiping away my tears. When I saw his concerned expression, I sobbed, burying my face in his bare shoulder. He stroked my hair and rubbed my back, sweetly muttering words of comfort to me.

"It's okay Y/N, take your time, baby…"

Embarrassing sobs escaped my eyes, nose, and mouth as I tried to explain myself.

"I…I just…"

I broke down again, Jon humming and stroking my hair.

"I…I hate myself so much… and I keep thinking I'm forcing you into this…and that nobody actually loves me when they say they do; I think they're lying…"

I felt like I was talking out of my butt right to my high school crush.

"…baby…why would I say I love you if I didn't mean it?"

That contradicted all my illogical thinking, stumping me.

"I….I dunno…I-I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense…" I replied, feeling helpless.

Jon held my face, caressing my cheeks and gazing lovingly into my eyes.

"Y/N, You're my best friend, well, now you're more than that but you WERE my best friend all throughout high school. You loved me like no one else. Why would I think you weren't good enough for me?"

I hung my head in embarrassment.

"I…I dunno…I'm sorry Jon, I just-"

Jon cut me off by connecting his lips to mine for a long kiss. He held the small of my back, and I moved my hands to his hair and around his neck.

"Don't apologize, Y/N…There's no need to…I love you…

We continued sweetly making out, just like we did in the snow. My bare skin locked with his, and it felt so good; rough hands ran along my back tattoos, tracing my shoulder blades and my ribs. I played with his dreadlocks with one hand while trailing the other one all over his shoulders and chest, him humming at my gentle touch. It felt like I was in heaven, like an angel blessed me with Jon. We kept making out sweetly until we suddenly heard a loud knock, startling us both. When we realized we were completely naked, Jon panicked, quickly throwing on his boxers and a random hoodie while I got up and searched my purse for a five dollar bill. Once I found it, I passed it to Jon, and he opened the door, blushing profusely.

"H…Hey, what's up?" Jon stuttered when he opened the door.

The delivery guy chuckled and said,

"Nothin' much, thanks for the cash, you have a good one."

"You too."

Once the door closed, Jon set down the pizza on the kitchen counter and lunged back at me, tackling me in another big bear hug.

"Jonathan!" I squealed, caught off guard.

He laughed and kissed me again, resuming our makeout session. Jon set me on his lap, allowing me to envelop his neck in my arms and comfortably hold him while he gently held my waist, rubbing my back sweetly.

"…we should probably eat that before it gets cold..."

Jon's tummy growled.

"Agreed."

Putting on a pair of boxers, a comfy Aerosmith t-shirt, and a thick, fluffy hoodie, I snuggled up next to Jon, who had already turned on The X-Files and was waiting for me with pizza and open arms before I came to him. Engulfed in each other, we finished our pizza and binged countless episodes, our minds calmed and forgetting about the earlier events.

…I have him now…that's all that matters…

At around two in the morning, Jon flopped his head against my chest and asked me to turn off the TV. We were both unbearably sleepy.

"…can I turn on my fan?..."

"…i was just about to ask you that…i hate silence…"

I carefully laid sleeping beauty down and turned on my fan, taking my sleeping meds and brushing my teeth on the way back. Jon used my toothbrush after me, which I somehow found adorable. Once I got back, I nestled into Jon's chest under thick, fluffy blankets and held him close. He dragged his fingers through my scalp, creating the effect of a horse tranquilizer.

…he's magic…

Jon sleepily placed tiny kisses on my embraced head, nuzzling my scalp with his nose and fingers.

"…i love you so much, Jon…i wanna be your S/O…" I murmured, feeling his arms tighten around me.

"…i'm all yours, Y/N…i'm your boyfriend…i love you too; so, so, so, so much…"

My sleepy head lay in Jon's protective arms, under warm blankets as I drifted into a deep sleep, never having slept that peacefully since I was in a coma. I remember dreaming about some guy dressed as a celery stick and buying a house where Jim Carrey was my realtor. It was a nice dream, in sweet arms, in a comfy bed.

…i never had all three until now…

…i love him so much…

THE NEXT MORNING:

"…oh and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and JESUS CHRIST WHAT IS THAT?!?!-"

…..fwoooosh…..

krkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkr…..

The rattling windows and snowstorm outside awoke me from my dream, groggy eyes still closed and my surroundings still unclear. I felt well-rested, like I had slept for several days. I huddled back in my blankets and lay with my eyes closed and a familiar essence surrounding me. It was a comforting essence, like one of a sleepy cat. Once I noticed the arms loosely draped around me, I slowly fluttered my eyes open, coming face-to-face with an adorable sleeping Jonathan. My heart immediately warmed when I remembered the night before; all the revenge, fighting, cuddling, kissing, and a nice hardcore fuck. I gave Jon a light kiss on his nose and closed my eyes again, too sleepy and cuddly to think about my internal struggles. Jon's soft embrace and warmth melted my troubles like an ice cube in hot tea, making me sleepy. I felt myself drifting in and out of sleep, Jim and the celery guy reappearing to try and sell me an inexpensive but great house. It was a one-story shack-like abode with a dirty, stone-floored basement and a couch and TV right in the middle of all the filth.

…perfect for me and jon…

Once I woke up again, I huddled up to Jon as stealthily as possible, not wanting to disturb his peaceful sleep. However, soon after I cuddled him, he shifted semi-consciously and instinctively hugged me close to him, groaning a bit in his sleepy state. I hugged Jon tighter and kissed his nose again, humming in his warm embrace. The frigid, howling winds outside my apartment calmed me down as I fell asleep one more time, a warm snuggle engulfing me into another dream about Jim and the celery man. This time, it was a recap of the night before, the celery man sharpening a celery stick and slitting Monica's throat with it, then Jim Carrey delivering a cheesy one-liner, then chopping her in half with an axe.

"How you like them celery sticks?-"

FWOOOSH

When my eyes fluttered open, my face got buried in a Pantera hoodie, and my scalp massaged gently. Jon was awake. I hummed and wrapped my legs around him, holding him tight. He giggled, ruffling my hair.

"…g'morning…"

"…g'morning…" I murmured, snuggling him a little harder.

Jon rubbed my head a little more, still being gentle. I hummed against him at the relaxing feeling.

"you're making me sleepy…"

Jon giggled and kissed the top of my head.

"mmh…can't have that happening, It's already 2:35 p.m…"

"oh really?..."

"yeah."

Jon sat up, resting his head on the headboard, leaving my sleepy head in his lap. I huddled up into him like a sleepy dog, trying to get as close as possible to him.

"Babe, if you do that you're gonna give me morning wood." Jon laughed, pulling me up into his chest and stroking my hair.

"…mmh, sorry hon…" I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"It's okay, baby…no need to apologize…"

I love Jon so much. He makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside, kills the alcoholic drug addict in me, and makes me a cuddly bastard…

After a few moments of warm cuddles and random conversation, Jon asked,

"You doing anything for Christmas?"

I shook my head.

"Nope. Ever since I moved out, my extended family never wants to see me again."

Jon hummed, nuzzling the top of my head.

"Wanna spend Christmas with me and my mom?" He asked.

My heart jumped out of my throat with that sentence. Fully awake now, I sat up and faced Jon.

"Wha- Really?! I mean-…Are they okay with it?"

"Of course, they're okay with it! They love you."

I almost started crying again.

"Jon….What did I do to deserve you?"

I held his pretty face in my hands and kissed his lips.

…pepperoni…

My heart wrenched at the offer. I wanted to turn it down in humility, but I wanted to be a part of the Davis family so badly.

"You were my best and only friend throughout high school and after; I should be asking that question…"

Overcome with insane amounts of serotonin, I threw my arms around Jon's neck and pulled him into a massive hug, burying my face into his shoulder.

"I can't believe this…"

"I can." Jon beamed, chewing on a strand of my hair.

He pulled me into his lips, kissing me passionately and holding my head against his, initiating another lazy makeout session. Jon spun us around and sat on my lap, holding my face while I hugged his tiny waist. He squished my cheeks and caressed them lovingly as if I was a five-foot-two teddy bear. After several minutes, Jon pulled away, still holding my face.

"Wanna get breakfast and play in the snow?"

I pecked his nose.

"I'd love nothing more…"

206 notes · View notes